


Customer Service

by Beewritesstuff (Mimispace)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Burgerpants went to surface college and got a degree in JUSTICE, F/F, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff and smut with a hefty helping of plot, Lawyerpants is the purest thing this fandom has birthed, Shit's gettin' dark now kids, So I am here to besmirch him, Would you be best friends with a ghost?, bee feeds her love of textile history and heraldry directly into your eyeballs, e'rybody loves Doggo, not actually much of a slow burn, with female bits, world building like hella
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:09:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 65,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimispace/pseuds/Beewritesstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-The original sin-</p><p>Burgerpants, after deciding to become a surface-lawyer on a desperate whim, has actually turned out to be pretty damn good at it. </p><p>Which is lucky, because the city needs all the help it can get when the local Money takes offense at the surface world's new inhabitants. With a finger on most governing offices and real estate plots in Mt. Ebott's community, they've gotten away with doing whatever they wanted for a long, long time... and their new hobby is terrorizing monsters.</p><p>Until now. Because YOU stood in their way.</p><p>...</p><p>But hey, at least your family owns a hotel.</p><p>Dat's pretty neat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prodigal Cashier Appears, And Also Jared Is A Lazy Shit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TotalSkeletonTrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalSkeletonTrash/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com), where we talk about security guards and suits with tail-holes.
> 
> And [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6122618/chapters/14032775) is the origin of Lawyerpants.

You hate this prim, obnoxious woman. At the moment, you can’t remember ever hating anyone more.

She’s all silk and smiles, flicking the paper across the concierge counter with the smugness of a tax-collector on payday.

**‘********* State Health Services Violation************’**

“I noticed the last time I was here that you had that _disgusting creature_ at the security desk.” she purrs, gesturing gracefully at Officer Doggo across the room as he scans the crowd. She laughs, clicking her fingernails twice on the marble surface between you. “I love staying here, I really do…but we can’t have filthy animals inside human dwellings! It’s entirely unsanitary. So I went ahead and put a word in at the Health Department, and…here we are!” A weasely little man, pasty pale and entirely unnoticeable next to the colorful, venomous creature before you, fumbles out a stack of paperwork and hands it over.

“You’ll find everything in order here, ma’am. Please have…him-“ he curls his nose at Officer Doggo –“removed from the premises within the week.”

The woman smiles at you, twiddles her fingers, and turns on one heel to leave, the man scurrying behind her.

...

You stand there for a second, dumbfounded. She just…that woman….

You could kill her! She insults YOUR hotel, the one you’ve worked in your whole life, the one your family owns, AND implies that one of your employees is ‘unsanitary’? Just because he’s a monster?

The sound of the busy lobby floods your ears suddenly- you’d been too surprised and angry to hear it before, and you crumple the random piece of paper under your hand into a tight little ball. What a rude, assisnine…

“Well?”

You jump and whirl, but it’s just Officer Doggo. He looks…resigned, even as he leans casually against the interior of the front desk. “That looks pretty official.”

You glance at the stack of stupid ‘health’ papers, sitting there all neat and ugly, and shake your head. Swaying slightly so he can see you easier, you ball your hands into fists. “You heard her? What an awful person, oh my God. She can’t do this, we’ll fight her.” Doggo snorts, stretching slightly. “Dunno boss lady, that was one of the Vaccarello family. You know they’ve got money like the grounds got dirt.”

You sigh, beckoning to one of the front desk girls to take over, and start across the lobby with Doggo at your side. “I know that, I know…but there’s no way. There’s absolutely no way I’ll let her do anything to you, to any of our people. She’s been causing trouble all over the city, using her husband’s money to screw up life for people just because they’re different. It’s messed up!”

You reach the elevator, and Doggo waves a paw over the buttons. “Where to?” You reach out and swipe your ID, then select the ‘Star’ level.

“I’m gonna go talk to dad.”

_______________

“WHAT”

As you suspected, your father is…less than thrilled. A grandchild of immigrants with just a bit too much curl to their hair and lilt to their speech to escape baseless prejudice, he’d fought hard to be sure his employees were treated right and paid well no matter what they were.

“I’ll be damned if that Vaccarello slut is going to get her fingers in here too! Officer Doggo is a damn good worker, I won’t give him up as my security supervisor if a THOUSAND Vaccarello women came in screeching about fleas, _cholera dziwka_ …”

As he rolled off into another stream of curses, you gave him a pat on the head before wandering away and sinking down into one of the extra chairs in his office. The glass doors behind him, leading out onto a huge balcony, gave a beautiful view of the city, but you aren't interested right now. _Now_ you knew why employees had been suddenly resigning. Housekeepers, bellhops…all lower-level employees, and only monsters. They’d just hand in a resignation, staring silently at the ground, and walk out.

Goddamn bitch.

“What are we gonna do, tati?” you whisper, staring at the ground. “We can’t fight her, not if she’s bought out the Health Department…remember what happened to the Renegade?” The famous restaurant downtown, 200 years old and still going strong, had hired a few monster cooks soon after Mt. Ebott was split. Soon after, there was a kitchen accident and the entire place went up in flames one night after closing, even though the gas lines in that block had been shut off for repair.

The owners moved out of town. Some people whispered that they’d refused a few Vaccarello parties after they’d raised a fuss about the new staff. But the whispers soon died out, and the razed lot stood vacant still.

“I know. We can’t…we have to be careful. I’m won’t let them do this, but we _have_ to be careful.” Your father scrubs his hand over his face, looking ancient instead of his forty-three. “We need to fight this in court, make it public. Scare the Vaccarellos off trying anything like that again. I know they just made a huge donation so new admin buildings could be put up for the State…I guess this is why.”

You nod, pulling down a tablet from its bracket on the wall and typing quickly. “I heard about this firm on the news, a brand new one, but they’re good; it’s partnered by a monster and a human. They do stuff like this, civil rights for monsters. They won a big housing lawsuit a little while ago.” You finally find the news cast, and copy down the name at the bottom of the video- LP&V, Summit Civil Rights Office.

Your father spins slowly around in his chair, staring ahead. He stops facing you, and sighs. “Better call them then, pumpkin. You’re better at running this place than I am.”

_______________

You get an appointment with one of the partners for two mornings later, though they couldn’t say for sure which of them it would be. Still, you make sure to actually get up in time to put on a little makeup and wear more than plain black slacks and a sweater.

When you get to work you toss your keys to the Valet (it’s Jared today) with a sharp whistle; he’d been napping at the stand. He grumbles, but pulls your old girl down into the parking garage gently enough.

By the time you’ve reached the top floor where the executive suites are, the hotel is at its mid-morning quiet. No screaming children, no pissy earlybirds…you’re so enjoying the calm that when you step out into the hall, you don’t notice the person silhouetted in your father’s office door at first. It’s only when you hear your father’s laugh that you look up…

 _Come on!_ You scold yourself. _You’ve seen_ A _nimal monsters plenty of times!_

But there’s just something slightly offputting about that tail as it curls gently behind him. He’s talking about your father’s collections of knick knacks he keeps around his office, gesturing lazily. He sounds…nice. Friendly.

“DAUGHTER OF MINE I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE!”

Your father is the opposite of lazy, especially this early. It’s disgusting. “Hey dad. Hello, Mr…?”

The cat….no, it’s Cat with a capital ‘C’ for monsters like him, you’ve got to remember that emphasis, pulls a business card from his breast pocket, and holds it out to you with a polite smile. He's covered in smooth, ginger hair from head to toe ( _'A creamsicle Kitty'_ you think, a little hysterically) with a tiny bridge of white going down his nose. His suit is impeccable, soft black with a blue shirt beneath; you wonder if he carries a lint roller every second of his life.

“Felix L. Pants, attorney at law.”

You take the card with a small frown, flipping it back and forth in your fingers as you lead the monster lawyer into the room. You could have _sworn_ there was nothing on the little piece of cardstock a second ago, but now it displays in neat black print:

**LP &V, Summit Civil Rights Office**

You almost drop it with a gasp as, right before your eyes, the text shifts slightly to show a list of associated practices and contacts. _Magic…_ you think dumbly, a grin growing on your face. _It’s actually magic!_

“Did you make it do that?” you ask the Cat, clutching the card tightly. Real magic!

“Hm?” he looks up from the stack of paperwork he was shuffling through. “Oh, the cards? No, a friend does them for us. Nice trick, huh?”

You nod, playing with the card and watching as, mirage-like, it shifts through various contacts and addresses. “It’s really cool! We have nothing like this!”

His tail twitches around his thigh and back again as he coughs out an embarrassed laugh. “Well…hey. I’m glad you like it. If you, um, if you focus on a certain name or place that’s printed on the card, it’ll cycle to the top for you.” He pushes off the desk and turns toward the open glass doors, hesitates, then cocks a packs of cigarettes at you and nods toward the balcony. You shake your head and wave him off, peering at the card as you try to remember various names, delighted as each one obediently fades into view in stark black on white.

Across the room, you see your dad step into one of the side hallways leading off his office, pulling his phone out as he goes, and sigh internally. If it’s that phone, then that means it’s one of the execs calling. He could be gone for an hour. Shrugging, you turn to watch the Cat as he leans forward against the rail, tail slowly waving behind him.

Though you’ll never in a million years admit it in front of the crisp, professional lawyer, you’ve noticed that he acts a _whole_ lot more like a cat than you’d originally expected. Similar to Doggo or his cousin, Greater Dog, but to a smaller degree than Lesser Dog. It’s almost familiar, the way he flicked one ear toward you to show he was listening even while he read over the case papers, or smoothed one paw down the front of his suit when he fumbled a pen (as if that was what he’d meant to do all along). He reminds you slightly of Pudding back at your apartment, though he's certainly more intelligent than your fat little tabby cat.

His little twitches are charming, and rather adorable, and….you need to find an interest other than your cat back home and Netflix.

You wonder what he’d think about humans owning lowercase cats. Or Netflix.

Better not to mention it yet. But you do wonder of Pudding would like him.

The Cat, Mr…Pants, wanders back in. He'd been flicking through something in his phone, and had seemingly pulled a few important-looking papers out of it? How in the hell....

“I need a few days to get together more information, but with your permission, I’ll get a cease and desist restraint for Amala Vaccarello into the mail today, as well as an objection to the Health Department order. Based on some previous legislation that’s recently gone into effect, I think we have a good chance of fighting this, but…” he trails off, eyes narrowing slightly.

You finish for him, letting the magically-appearing-papers go for now. “But there'll be more trouble than just this one thing.”

He nods grimly. “A local girl is having similar problems in her personal life, you’ve seen her on the news?”

“Oh yeah, _______. The daughter of the Ebbco founders. That whole story is messed up. I don't usually watch Mettaton, but that broadcast was everywhere.” You pick up a pen and start fiddling with it, feeling bleak.

The Cat begins packing up his papers after handing you the two he needed that day. “It’s pretty messed up, that’s for sure. But it’s happening all over.” For a second, you swear you see claws flex out and poke pin holes in the folder he’s holding. Then he’s back to the cool-cat lawyer, all formal and smooth.

Your father pauses his phone call long enough to sign the paperwork with you and thank Mr. Pants- “Felix, please.” -then wanders back out of the room. When the Cat turns to you and reaches out, you’re delighted (and slightly ashamed at yourself for being so) with how soft his paw is. It’s slightly more elongated than a normal cat’s paw, giving him the dexterity to write and pick things up, you guess. His grip his firm, but not overly-tight like some men, and he shakes your hand briskly. "We'll be seeing each other again shortly" he says, watching you intently. You nod, smiling at the old-fashioned politeness. 

Just then, a stray streak of sunlight breaks through the cloud cover outside, and casts over his red fur and gold eyes, giving them a flash of fire. It’s so beautiful, in an absolutely inhuman way. You stare for a moment, then realize what you’re doing and blush slightly, dropping his paw and murmuring your own goodbye.

You watch him leave, slightly fascinated by the inhuman outline of his legs against his trousers. He walks like...well, like a cat. Smooth and confident, like a dancer. Or someone that's been given decorum lessons, like one of your old highschool friends.

Once you hear the elevator 'ding', you giggle breathlessly and press your hands to your cheeks for a moment. The world is so interesting now! Creatures you've never dreamed of, working (mostly) alongside humans and watching the world go by, like a thousand years hadn't passed! Speaking of watching...you’re not sure, but you could’ve sworn Felix L. Pants' pupils had blown wider for a moment as you’d looked at each other while shaking hands, even with the bright sunlight on his face.

He really does have nice eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What circle of hell is it for Cat sinners?
> 
> Also, don't worry. There's gonna be so many familiar faces and domestic Reader details, you could just choke on them:)
> 
>  


	2. Never Trust A Woman With A Perfectly Toned Ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

“Look here, you little fuck…” you mutter at your laptop as it sadly (and loudly) ‘boops’ out a grating error noise. With a sigh, you force it off, and close it a little harder than necessary. When, oh when, did your day go to shit?

Oh, that’s right. When three buses of highschool basketball moms got sent over from a booked partner hotel, a man stumbled out of the elevator and projectile vomited across the lobby carpet, and a few lovely citizens got into a fist fight right on the front porch.

That morning had been so calm and controllable, first with the good traffic on the way to work, then with Mr. Felix. It was only after he’d left that everything went to shit, thank god. You didn’t want the professional Cat to see your family business so hectic.

Speaking of the lawyer; you’d just wanted to come home and look his practice up a little better. You hadn’t had the chance before; just called his office on word of mouth, then thrown yourself back into collecting all the information you could on Doggo's excellent employee history and your hotels employment policies. That Vaccarello woman pissed you off, and you wanted to be sure the lawyer had everything they needed to smash her like a rat.

But now you were finally home, and had a little more time on your hands. So naturally, after getting changed into comfortable clothes and eating some leftovers from the fridge, you went to see what the internet knew about the Cat lawyer...

...til your laptop screeched its dying words, and flickered out to a serene, jaw-grinding blue.

Pudding looks at you with concern when you swallow back a frustrated scream. 

After spending a moment hugging your fat little cat and taking deep breaths, you grab the laptop and carry it out to your kitchen, fighting back tears. You’d bought it with your first paycheck- a black Friday deal that you’d owned for over three years. Now it was just…dead.

A knock at the door brings you whirling around, startled. Who the hell could it be at 10pm…and oh god, your apartment. It’s a wreck. Yesterday’s clean laundry is still strewn across your couch, the underwear and bras stacked on your chair. The T.V. still has your thigh-highs hung over it.

They knock again, and you shout out, “Hold on a sec!”, and run over to grab the thigh-highs and stuff them and the undie pile under a blanket. Making sure your hair isn’t 100% terrible, you run over, put the chain lock on and open the door…

To a…robot? An android?

What the hell?

You’ve never seen them before, or anything like them. Except maybe that one monster television star, Mettaton. He’s on latenight TV though (his shows are a little too…exuberant sometimes), and you don’t think this robot looks the same, but…you fix a smile on your face and unchain the door, ashamed of yourself for staring. ”Hi! I’m sorry it took so long! What can I do for you?"

The robot blushes. _Actually_ blushes, the pearlescent-gray skin of their cheeks turning darker. “Oh…oh no, no, I just….” They fidget with their hair for a moment, hanging down to their chin in smooth silver strands, then meet your eyes for the first time. You almost gasp, but manage to force it back; their eyes had _stars in them_. Like actual, honest to god, what-you-see-when-you-look-at-the-sky stars.

“I…I’m Napstabl…Napstablook. Your new neighbor, if…that’s okay?”

You wonder how you could possibly stop them from BEING your neighbor, but it’s kinda sweet how they say it. And you’d heard someone moving in a few days ago…

 You mentally pinch yourself and smile. “Hi Napstablook, I’m _______. It’s nice to meet you!” You offer your hand, slightly intimidated by how _perfect_ the android looks. Like…flawless, like a vocaloid come to life. Gingerly, they take your hand and barely bless it with a shake.

“S..sorry, I just…I just got this body, and I don’t want to hurt you. It’s really strong.”

Well that’s kinda…sweet, in a slightly threatening and doesn’t-make-any-sense way. But they certainly don’t seem threatening.

The android, Napstablook, squares their shoulders. “But I…I came over also because I heard your computer? The hardware alarm?”

You stare blankly at them for a second. Napstablook wrings their hands, but repeats, “You computer’s internal error alarm just went off? I can, um…I can maybe fix it, as a ∞∞∞∞∞ gift.”

Their voice is beautiful, and juuuuust on the eerie side of slightly-autotuned. “Oh wow, really? I mean, I don’t know what’s wrong with it but….”

You blink then, processing the second part of their statement. “Wait, a what gift?”

Whatever they said was like a cross between a sigh and a many-voweled word, accented with a sort of lilt in the middle, but...you have no idea how to repeat it.

“An ∞∞∞∞∞ gift? When….when you come in to another person’s home, and you want them to know you’re friendly, so you...you do something for them? It’s traditional….for ghosts at least.” Napstablook looks at their feet, the picture of absolutely flawless dejection.

Well...humans kinda do the same thing too, with housewarming gifts. You’ll just look at it that way. “Oh wow, um, okay! Thank you, yes, I mean…if you can fix it, that’d be great! I’ll pay you, as long as you don’t charge what the big repair places do.”

Napstablook smiles slightly at that, still staring at the floor. “Oh okay…good, can I…oh wait, humans sleep... I’ll come back…tomorrow?”

Humans sleep. Humans. Sleep.

....

“Hey yeah, thank you so much. It’s my day off, so like…around 8?" You bounce slightly on your toes, happy that maybe you can salvage the good ol’ pile of crap. Napstablook nods once, and…vanishes.

Just vanishes, a sort of fade-out that has you gape mouthed and staring. And...and, they'd said....they were a ghost? In…a robot? A beautiful ghost in a beautiful robot that moved in next door, and apparently fixes computers?

…

You’re going to bed.

_________

It’s your day off, yes, but you still want to run your father some lunch. Not like you have that much else to do. And it’s such a nice day too: the snow looks beautiful, even though it’s pretty filthy along the roads. Puddng takes the warm spot on your mattress happily as you make your way out of your apartment and down to the front door. You live in a slightly more residential area so there’s even trees lining the sidewalk, and all of them have delicate icicles hanging off their branches. You wave at your landlady as she scatters salt on the parking lot, and she beckons you over. Oh god, what if somethings wrong, or your rents gone up, or…

“Morning ______!” She says cheerfully as you navigate across the slippery macadam. “I don’t need anything, don’t look so worried! Just wanted to tell you that a new person, a um…a _monster_ is moving in next door to you. They've just as much right to live here as anyone else, I'll hear nothing about it!"

She fixes you with a stern look, and you put your hands up in defense. “Hey, no Margret, it’s cool. We met already, they’re really nice in a…nervous way.” The older woman, a short little fluff of a woman with smile lines cut deep around her mouth, laughs and tosses the last of the salt. “Oh good, I’m glad. Yes, Napstablook is a sweetheart, did you know they’re related to Mettaton?”

You’d figured they were maybe connected in some way, since they were both android-robot-maybe-ghosts. “No I didn't... but they look a little the same. You think they planned it that way?”

Margret shrugs, staring off for a moment. "I wouldn't know." After checking around quickly, she steps closer. “I heard you and your father are standing up to Amala Vaccarello. Good for you. I don’t want any accidents either, but.. I heard she's out for your place. You be careful girl, she's a bitch who ain't got a handler. ”

You try not to sound mad; she's just looking out for you. “She tried to get Doggo _fired_ Margret. She called him a dirty animal! You remember Doggo, he helped me haul up that couch last month! He's a good worker, I won't have her ordering my people around!”

She nods, but her face is troubled. “He’s a good Dog and a good man, that’s for sure. I’m not sayin’ you should roll over and take it, but just be careful. That womans got all her husbands money, and none of his responsibilities. She causes problems just for fun."

“I’ll be careful Margret, I promise.” You lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. “Thanks for the warning though.”

__________

After you pick up your dad’s order at his favorite Italian café, you slowly make your way through town.

Parking your car a few blocks down (you never take up valuable space in the parking garage unless you’re working late), you wander up past the little shops on either side of the hotel. They were all old, having been built around the same time the Stained Glass Inn; now the Stained Glass Hotel, thanks to you and your father. The two of you had taken the inn his father and grandfather had built, and slowly added to it until it was a sprawling, two story hotel with all the good old bones and history a town like Mt. Ebott deserved.

You drop off his lunch with a smooch, and make your way down to your favorite haunt: the laundry.

It was where you’d started all those years ago: folding towels and sheets for the housekeepers, and scrubbing god-knows what out of the curtains. It's hard work , but...you miss it sometimes, working management. There's a…a _culture_ in the housekeeping department, a hum of good-humored irritation and joking layered over the proud knowledge that _they were needed_. Your family makes sure the housekeepers, launderers, and housemen are paid well and treated fairly, because you wouldn't have a business without them.

It shows in the flawless appearance the hotel maintained steadily for four generations.

You can hear Lucy’s voice as you near the laundry wing. She's the oldest launderer there; a Latino woman who’d recently adopted a little boy. Her husband had never wanted children, but after he passed away last year, she’d put through for the paperwork to, “get herself a son, so he can do some of the housework too.” She loved him like sunshine, and he often came in after school to do his homework in the housekeeping breakroom. In fact, you can hear him in there now, counting out loud as his mothers voice dips and swirls.

Waiting outside the door, you listen as Lucy regales the younger girls working today. She has a beautiful voice, and is telling a ghost story about the hotel, one of many. With an evil grin, you grab a bedsheet off the nearest cart and drape it over yourself; you know this story well enough to add to it.

When Lucy gets to the best part, “-and when she turned around, the steam on the mirror was wiped away, and in its place was a BLOODY FACE!”, you jump into the door way draped in the sheet with a yell, making all the girls shriek and scramble back.

As Lucy laughs and the girls recover, you toss the sheet into the next load to be done, and give her a hug. She tugs your hair, still chuckling. “And how are you today, naughty girl?” she teases, shooing the other girls to grab their baskets and go back to the washer room.

You giggle a little, happy to be down here again. “Not bad, not bad. Just stopping in to see how it all goes.” 

Lucy snorts, and props a fist on her hip. "About as well as you can expect. I lost three girls the other day, three! All of them water sprites too, they did such a good job, then up and quit like someone lit a fire under them!"

You grit your teeth. More handiwork of that evil, awful....

“Ms._______?” someone calls behind you. You turn to find one of the front desk clerks, and with him the most _beautiful_ monster-person you’ve ever seen. She looks like…well she looks like a bunny rabbit on two legs. Her fur is slightly pink-tinted, and she’s wearing the most adorable little velvet dress and coat in pale blue.

“Ms. ______, this is the owner of the Snowed Inn under the mountain. She’s here to speak to the agent up in sales planning, but I wanted to let you know she’d arrived. I’m taking her up the back elevator because the front ones are so packed.”

Oh shit. You’d entirely forgotten about this. Last month, your hotel had been contacted by a monster Innkeeper interested in arranging a potential getaway deal to their perpetually snowy lodge under the mountain.

“Hi, yeah! Sorry, it’s nice to meet you, I’m ________...” you glance at the clock, and realize it’s almost 2pm. “Crap, sorry, but you’d better go up to sales. They leave really soon after two.”

The Bunny smiles, and shoos someone forward.

 _Oh my god, she has a baby Bunny boy wearing a matching suit._ He’s maybe the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. ______. Your father said I could leave my son here with a…um, Ms. Lucy while I’m upstairs?”

Even her voice is sweet and gentle. You feel like a sack of potatoes compared to her. Lucy restrains a giggle behind you, so at least the cuteness overload is mutual then. “Yes, that’s fine! We’re a family business ma’am, and that includes our children. He’s welcome to play here in the breakroom with Lucy’s grandson. We'll be sure he's safe and happy while his mom is busy.” You try to give a charming smile, though you've probably grown like...extra eyebrow hairs and a horn since you first met the lovely Bunny. She's just so pretty, she sucks all the pretty out of the room everywhere she goes. And her son is _painfully_ cute.

“Oh, wonderful! Thank you!” She gives a tiny curtsey, much more graceful than you could ever hope to be, and gently pushes her son into the room. “Be good, be polite, and no magic while around humans, okay?” she tells him, and he nods. You wonder at that for a second, a little dissapointed; you love magic, and hardly ever get to see it.

Then he’s instantly sucked up into play by Lucy’s grandson in the breakroom to the right, and the Bunny is on her way back to the house elevator. Work in the sorting room goes back to usual with Lucy directing, and you’re left to settle into an out of the way chair and think.

Do all monsters have magic? Do they all have _different_ magic? They’d been closemouthed about it for a long time, and understandably too. Only recently were monster and human scientists working together to share even the basics of magic.

You settle in, chatting with the launderers and playing with the two kids, until you look up and realize it’s almost three. The Bunny lady must be doing well, since the getaway/resort planner hasn’t tried to escape yet. You hear the telltale clamour of beeping as the dryers back the hall finish, and pull your feet up out of the way as the girls come rushing in to grab baskets. They all come back with full, sweet smelling loads, and dump them out on the tables. 

It's a happy moment. The room is full of people, chatting and folding clean laundry, and the little Bunny boy and Lucy’s grandson are bouncing around happily…

“Well isn’t this a….quaint scene.”

No. No, it can’t possibly be…

Sure enough, when you turn around, Amala Vaccarello is standing in the doorway. “I just had to stop in, silly little _restraining_ order or no! And here we are, with more _animals_ even in the clean laundry!”

Behind her are two rather-large men, who she flicks her fingers at. “Go back out to the lobby, keep that disgusting Dog busy.” When they’re gone, she turns back with a big smile.

The room is silent. All the employees had been quietly informed about the Vaccarello situation, but there was pure hatred in this room in particular. The Vaccarellos owned most of the property in the south side of the city where many of these women lived, and they were cruel landlords. Ms. Amala would find no friends here.

But, either too stupid or too confident to notice the amosity in the room, the woman keeps going. “Oh, and what is THAT?” she exclaims brightly, walking in towards the little Bunny boy where he stands frozen. “A filthy little rabbit? Do you know what we do with rabbits in our yard? We _trap them.”_ He whimpers and takes a tiny step back, and you get up quickly.

You honestly don’t understand why this woman hates monsters so much. It’s more than bigotry, it’s…it’s vicious. 

Just then, someone gasps in the hall. The Bunny Innkeeper is standing there, eyes wide and worried. Amala Vaccarello’s lip curls so far up, you can see her teeth. “Oh, lovely. They come in bigger sizes too.

The Bunny in the doorway stills, then give a sudden…twitch. An all over shake that draws the eye like neon. With a bright, false smile on her face, she takes a step back and says, “Ms…Vaccarello? Hello! It’s so nice to meet you, I was just learning about your family! We should talk in the lobby where there’s more room!” The human woman steps forward, a delicately puzzled expression on her face, and the Bunny steps back again. She’s staring at her with a wide-eyed, innocent expression, and the woman starts to look the tiniest bit…spaced out. Vacant-eyed, as she matches the Bunny step for step.

And then you realize what’s happening here. The Innkeeper’s little boy is in the room right beside you and very close to Amala, and the Bunny, with some kind of Bunny magic, is trying to draw the ‘predator’ away from her baby.

You feel cold all over, as if someone had dumped freezing water over you. This sweet, gentle Bunny had come in with a professional business deal, come in to YOUR hotel that your father, your father’s father, had owned, expecting a safe place for business negotiations…and this viper of a woman had snuck in, like a snake into a nest.

“Lucy, call the police.” Your voice is quiet and sharp; it cuts through the room like glass. You are _so_ angry, that rare, righteous anger that burns cold instead of hot. “Call them right now, and tell them that Amala Vaccarello violated a Cease and Desist order that forbids her access to this hotel, that she’s here anyway.”

Lucy, her face hard, nods and pulls out her cellphone. You turn and push the baby Bunny behind you, where Lucy’s son grabs him and pulls him back to stand with his mother. “Ms. Innkeep, if you could step to the side?” You’re still quiet, still polite. She blinks, nods, and steps into the room. With that, the spell on the Vaccarello is broken. She starts screeching, her pretty face contorted in rage.

“You let her use magic on me! That disgusting animal used magic on me, she forced me to do something against my will, I’ll have her arrested! I’ll-“

“You. Will. Do. _Nothing._ ” You advance on the woman, furious. She whirls, but she’d left her bullyboys in the lobby. She fumbles a step back, but you don’t hesitate. Either you’ll crash together, or she’ll have to move.

She moves.

“You get out of my hotel, don't EVER come here again. And don't you  _e_ _ver_ harass any of my employees or business partners, this is _my_ hotel, this is _my_ property and _my employees_ and you **are not welcome here!** ”

You’ve backed her into the hall, where she stands, trembling. You faintly realize that you have your teeth bared in a snarl, one hand raised. “Get _out_ before I force you out, you disgusting bigot. I could have you thrown out bodily, but the children don’t deserve to see that. This building, this land, these people... are _mine._ ”

You stand there for a moment in silence, glaring at the woman as she stares at you, apparently amazed at someone daring to yell at her.

You hear a commotion in the lobby, and two police officers round the corner into the hall. You know one, old Officer Cooper, an African American man who’d been in the police for sixty-some years, and acted as the public face of the department. His patrol covers the street outside, and you grew up bringing him coffee and snacks from the hotel kitchen. He must have been nearby with his partner.

“I told them it was a Vaccarello, and that she’d brought men with her, Miss ______.” Lucy says behind you, her voice low. The officers walk up and, none too gently, grab Amala Vaccarello. Officer Cooper looks her over, his face shut and cold. “You have violated a court-mandated restriction from this premises. You have the right to remain silent...”

He finished reading her her rights as the younger officer cuffs her hands behind her back and drags her, screaming, out of the room. Officer Cooper watches with a disgusted look for a moment, then turns to you. “Hey girlie. Everyone here alright?” You nod, shaking a little as your temper thaws. “Yeah, we’re….we’re alright. Thank you Mr. Cooper.”

He grins at you for a moment, but the grin fades. “You know she’ll be out by nighttime?”

You nod; you DO know. Everyone in town knew you couldn’t arrest a Vaccarello for long, they made too many donations to important people. He stares around the room for a moment, then, shaking his head, starts for the door. “We’ll do our best, Ms. ______. She won’t bother you all anymore tonight.” As he walks out, you hear him mutter, “S’cuse me, sir.” as he steps around someone.

You turn back to the room. “Are you….Ms. Innkeeper, are you alright?”

The Bunny, consoling her crying son, smiles gently. “Call me Novi. Carly upstairs was just telling me about that...situation. I'm glad I came down when I did. Yes, we’re alright. Just a little shaken, right baby?” That last part is directed at her son, but honestly, you wouldn’t mind a hug either. Just when things start going well in your life, after everything with college had gone to shit…the richest family in town decides to put a target on your hotel, and now on you too, you’re sure.

Then Novi looks up at someone behind you, and gasps, “Oh, Lawyerpants! Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins.


	3. Women Supporting Women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

Oh no. No, nooooooo...

  
But yes, it's him. Standing there in the doorway in a long black coat, staring at you with wide eyes. In fact, everyone is staring at you. You feel your cheeks start to turn flame-red as your lower lip trembles slightly. You hate confrontation, even when it's justified, and your temper is thawing to a watery puddle.

  
Thank god for Lucy.

  
"All of you, out! Gawk at the handsome Cat-Man later!" She flaps her hands at the other laundresses, clearing the room of everyone but herself, the Bunny family, and Felix. She even sends her son back with one of the older women. Then she steps in front of you, and addresses Felix sternly. "A woman needs time to compose herself. Take a seat, sir."

  
"Yesmaam" he says quickly, and lowers himself into the closest chair with a graceless thump.

You'd giggle, except you're staring at the wall and trying very hard not to cry.

Gently, you feel someone put their arm around your shoulders. It's Novi, her face kind. "Here, is there a bathroom nearby?" she whispers, her side surprisingly stable against you. You nod, sniff, then square your shoulders and walk out into the hall with Novi supporting you. You make it to the lobby bathroom before the tears start down your face. The Bunny levers you into one of the couches, then starts pulling things from her purse. You take an offered tissue gratefully, willing your sputtering lungs to calm down, and trying to wipe smeared mascara from beneath your eyes.

  
"We women walk a fine line, don't we?" Novo murmurs as she digs in her bag. "We're to be responsible and caring, but not too responsible or we're cold, and not too caring, or we're just annoying...or worse, silly." She surfaces from the seemingly bottomless bag with something in her paw, and is met by your incredulous gaze. "What, you think monsters have none of these problems?" She smiles, handing you a small collection of makeup. "Go put that on, and imagine how you want it to look while you do. Everything will be see-through at first."

  
You blow your nose, go over and wash your hands and face, then retrieve the fancy-looking tubes and compacts. As you begin to shakily apply fresh mascara, which darkens to your favorite shade as you think about it, Novi goes on quietly.

  
"I am much older than you'd imagine, I think. I was born very shortly after the first attempts at peace-talks failed, and isolated battles began to break-out." She catches your incredulous look in the mirror, and smiles. " Oh yes, that old. Almost 1000 human years." She pulls her little hat off and shakes her ears out like you'd shake out your hair, all while you stand there sputtering. "At the time, my people were considered only good for servant work. My mother was employed by the Queen, and my father was a message-runner for the soldiers. He was very fast, you see."

She thumps one big foot on the ground for emphasis. "But papa wasn't fast enough, and he was killed. Life was different then, under the mountain. No one had money or food for servants, everyone was just trying to find something to eat. Eventually, Mama died, and I had to find a way to support myself. There was a small town for me in a colder area, and I was already well trained in making people comfortable...."

  
With a shrug, she pins her hat back into place. "I am the first of my people to own land and property for many generations. I am hoping that the stability will encourage my son to grow up; he has been the same age for many years from sadness underground and fear of the future"

  
You stare at her, makeup forgotten on the counter. "Novi...God, I'm so sorry..."

  
With an impatient huff, she comes over and starts putting powder on your cheeks herself with experienced motions. "I told you that so that you would understand; I know what it's like to have to be firm with people you're afraid of. I was afraid of everyone for a long time, I am still sometimes afraid."

  
A quick dab on your lips, a few strands of hair coaxed forward, and she turns you to the mirror. "There, see? It is easier to be brave when you feel pretty." With a teasing bump to your hip, she gathers up her things and dumps them back into her purse. "Come on, Lawyerpants is waiting to deliver gloomy news, no doubt."

  
You pat your hair one last time, wondering how much about you Novi knows somehow, then follow her to the door of the bathroom. "How do you know him?"

  
She smiles as she waves to Doggo across the lobby. He looks concerned, but you wave him off with a shakey smile yourself.

  
"Lawyerpants worked very hard to be more then his place in life afforded him. He is one of few attorneys willing to take on monster cases, so many of us have met him or at least heard of him."

  
You scrunch your nose. "Do you really have so much trouble with the law? And...is his name really Lawyer...pants?"

  
Novi grins. "Monsters generally have a first name from their parents, and a title from the community. His title was unfortunately given to him by two...girls, after they tried to convince him to steal burgers for them from his old job as a short-order cook. Apparently a professor in school changed his title to Lawyerpants, and he's been enamored with it ever since."

  
You smile in spite of yourself, thinking how someone could get the name Burgerpants at a fast-food restaurant. " But his name is Felix, right?"

  
Nearing the laundry wing, you hear voices inside. Novi murmurs, "Yes, that's right" as you round the doorway to an adorable sight.

  
Lucy's son is sitting on Felixes lap, plainly awestruck as the cat instructs him in a very serious life lesson. Lucy, leaning against the wall, is beside herself with giggles, though she valiantly tries to stifle them in her sleeve.

  
" I'm telling you little buddy, don't ever trust someone to do something for you without getting it in writing! I learned under some big shot actor for three years, and he never once included me in any of his stuff! It was mad depressing... but I guess I learned a lot. Still!"

  
You can't help it, you giggle too. He sounds so much younger like this, talking to the little boy. Not in a bad way though, just... more relaxed.

  
His ears perk at your giggle, and he turns to look you over. His gaze lingers on your face for a moment, though whether that's because of the make up, or because he wants to be sure you're not still upset, you don't know. With more care than you'd expect, he lifts the boy to the ground and gets up with a groan. "Sorry little buddy, but Boss Lady here needs me."

  
You aren't sure, but you get a vague feeling he says 'boss lady' less like the gentle tease Doggo uses it as, and more as a title, a little like Novi calling him 'Lawyerpants'.

  
He turns to face you, and to your surprise, gives a tiny bow, closing his eyes as he does. You hear Novi "hmmmm" behind you. When he straightens, he gestures to his briefcase, laying forgotten on the floor. "I have a few...complications I need to cover with you, Ms. ________."

  
His relaxed manner is gone, replaced with his usual calm politeness. Behind him, Novi's son and Lucy's are whispering furiously.

  
A bit off balance, you stutter, "Oh-oh yeah. Sure!" You take a deep breath and try again- "Sure, I'm happy to look over whatever." There, that's better.

  
You invite him up to your own little office, and reach over to grab your purse off the nearest table. Before you can though, he gingerly loops his hand through it as well as his briefcase.

  
"Please, let me."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this was typed entirely on a tablet. I apologize for any formatting or spelling errors, I have to go back in on my laptop later.
> 
> A big theme in many of my works is the importance of inter- women relationships . It is important that we boost each other up and protect each other.
> 
> Story timeline: About seven days til shitscram.
> 
> Also, very old undertale characters are a gift from God. 
> 
> Yes, this is going to be a little bit of a culture exploring fic:) while my views are not canon in any way, I like to think that they fit well. Picture Novi with a slight accent, old and a little formal sounding.


	4. Bee Rewrote This Chapter Almost Twenty Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

The ride up to your office in the dingy back elevator is awful. You’re still a little quivery, though less than before thanks to Novi, and Felix is in front of you, typing something into his phone. You consider asking about the paperwork, about his job in general, about Christmas (it IS only a week or so away), but you just can’t bring yourself to break the heavy silence.

When you finally reach the top floor, you mutter, “Here, this way” and step around him out into the hall. Instead of continuing straight into your father’s empty office, you cut off to the right into the small area you’ve claimed as your own, unlocking the door and switching the lights on.

You’re suddenly, horribly embarrassed, because it’s _very much_ Your Office, and you never bring people up here. For good reason.

Oh god, is that yesterday’s ramen cup? When did you hang that idiot collage of you and Pudding- **_why is there a gigantic stuffed rock on your desk._**

Oh right. Because it’s your turn to take care of The Rock. Office tradition.

You could die. There’s crap everywhere, you just haven’t been bothering to pick up much lately. It’s not dirty, just junky, but…

You hear a choked sound behind you, and turn to find Felix Lawyerpants, immaculately-polite attorney at law, with an absolutely horrible expression as he….tries not to laugh _?_

There’s silence in the room for three straight seconds, both of you staring at the other, before he bursts out in giggles and you sit down with a ‘humph’. Crossing your arms, you stare at the carpet as the Cat collapses into the only other chair, obviously trying to calm himself. Finally, you glare at him and mutter, “You done yet?” but that just sets him off again.

“You….oh god, I’m sorry, I don’t…but you should have seen your face! What even is that, why do you have a giant ROCK on your keyboard?”

Groaning, you let your head and arms drop down onto the desk. “It’s the office rock” you whisper into the wood.

The snorting wheeze THAT produces is practically inhuman.

You pick up a styrofoam container as well as a few empty plastic cups and dump them into the trash, grumbling while Felix composes himself. Finally, he presents you with a small stack of papers, sliding the top two toward you first.

“Er, Ms.______, I’m sorry. That was…rude.” He looks honestly chagrined, and you finally let yourself smile too.

“No, hey. It’s alright. It’s been a long week, and well…this place IS a mess. Here, catch.” You toss him the surprisingly-realistic foam rock, giggling a little yourself when he flinches away at first. While he plays around with it, you pick up the two documents he’d directed to you and start to read them over. Your spirits quickly fall again.

He catches your look as he sets the rock to the side and sighs, leaning back tiredly. “Yeah. Those are transcripts of the final verdict the Supreme Court reached a few days ago ago, Amnesty International versus USHH. I was hoping to find a newer case that we could push, but…that’s the latest one.”

Your eyes blur as the ugly printed words jump out at you.

**‘Unable to prove sentience in all unrelated beings’**

**‘Potential health hazards to be determined by impartial studies’**

**‘Summary- Ineligible for petitioned 'human rights' under current circumstances’**

“They…what does this mean?” you whisper, unable to tear yourself away from reading and rereading that last line.

“Monsters are currently unable to vote. ‘Animal’-like monsters can’t work in food preparation unless they own the establishment, and are still subject to many pet-specific laws. Monsters can be denied housing on the basis of health code, though that can sometimes be fought…”

You look up at that, but Felix is staring out the window sadly. “There’s a lot more. It’s not…it isn’t the best situation. Until we win ‘human rights’, there are a lot of ways the law can be twisted against us. An attorney can fight it sometimes, but there aren’t many monsters that can afford the court costs. Some kids are going hungry because their parents gold isn’t worth what it should be.”

The tears start again, silent and slow, and you’re suddenly so thankful that your family has enough money to even afford a lawyer at all. You had no idea it was so bad, why was there no media coverage? Sure, you’d seen the actor, Mettaton, doing fundraisers and campaigns, but you’d assumed they were mostly just for publicity.

But no…children were starving because their parents couldn’t exchange perfectly good gold for currency.

Felix jerks around when you sniff, and you cringe at yourself. “God, I’m sorry. I’m a mess today.” You reach for a tissue and dab at your cheeks, amazed when there’s no makeup smeared. Crap, you’ll have to ask Novi how to get it off.

When you can finally bring yourself to look at him instead of your wall, he’s got the strangest expression on his face. “What?”

He clears his throat and pushes himself back in his seat, his ears drooping a little. Finally he murmurs, “I’m just...I’m honored that a Queen would cry for our problems.”

The words sound strange and archaic, like a memorized bit of poetry, but you don't notice at first, your irritation coloring your hearing. Queen? _Queen?!_ What, is that the monster term for calling someone 'princess'?

You snap upright, glaring at him. “Look, I didn’t want to have some…some cat fight with that woman, alright? I’m not a priss or a bitch, I’m _allowed_ to be angry if someone threatens my staff!”

He looks puzzled, and a little insulted. “Of course you are, it's appreciated...”

“Then why did you call me a ‘queen’, like I was just fighting over some pissy little thing?”

“That’s not...what a Queen is? I...I'm not sure what you-”

“Well I’m not some royalty like Queen Toriel, god knows, so I'm sure I know exactly what you meant-”

“I never said you were, what are you talking about?! I meant no disrespect, but I'd assumed a human who employed so many monsters would have read over the _detailed_ guides the King has provided to all human employers just last week, avoids misunderstandings like this..."

“Well I missed it! Ifyou haven't noticed, we've been having a bit of a crisis here lately. So WHAT are you talking about?"

You’re both loud by the end of it, half out of your seats. You’re pissed, and he’s past indignant into insulted.

A stern voice from the doorway interrupts you both.  

“Enough, both of you.” Novi is standing there, her paws on her hips, glaring at you both. “I come up because I forgot my jacket, and here the two of you are, yelling about nothing!” She points at you. “He’s using the word ‘Queen’ in an old way of his people, like 'leader' or 'boss'. He’s _complimenting_ you, not insulting you. Its in the book” Then she fixes him with one big, chocolate brown eye, and he wilts under her look. “And you, stop it. She’s not being rude, she just doesn’t understand. Your family is the last, you should be used to other people not knowing the old stories regardless, and she's been busy anyway. I am leaving now, Ms.______. Thank you for your time today, and I'll be in touch. Try to be gentle with each other.”

After pursing her lips at the both of you, she disappears around the corner with a delicate huff, leaving you staring first at each other, then at the doorway.

The longer you think about it, the more you’re simultaneously flattered, embarrassed, and horrified. “Um…sorry. I didn’t understand.” Well you still don’t entirely, but…

He smoothes the ruff at the base of his neck, then sighs. “I apologize. That was…unprofessional. It’s been a long day.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh fuck professional. I’m too tired for professional.” That gets you a quick grin, and you feel your lips tug up in answer. But…

“But hey, er…Felix. I’m not anything like what you said. I’m not old enough to be the leader of anyone. Don’t go thinking I’m special.” You end with a empty laugh.

He gives you the funniest look for a moment, then shrugs. “You claimed property and people under your protection.” You can tell he didn’t listen to a word you said. He reaches forward, and shuffles through the paperwork, looking for something. “Sorry if it weirded you out though. I haven’t spent much time around humans, I was… pretty busy with school.”

You watch him tiredly as he pulls out a few finely-printed pages. What little you’d learned before your laptop fried, Lawyerpants had gotten his bachelors degree AND passed his final exam in a little over, what, a year?  And during that time, before he even graduated, had managed to win a local case over tenant rights for some friends of his.

He’s younger than you’d initially thought, you realize. With his sleeves rolled up like this as he highlighted something in the text, he looked maybe…early twenties? It was hard to tell with Animal-monsters, but…

“That’s a good color on you.”

Oh Christ, the words slip out before you could stop them. He’d taken off his jacket when you’d both sat down, and the blue button-down contrasts well with his copper fur.

Even though he’s looking down, you see him sneer slightly, and feel indignant. “Hey, don’t be like that.” When all you get is a brief, false smile, you sigh and start flipping through the stack on your desk. Finally, he caps the highlighter and stretches, flexing his paws. You wonder faintly if he ever hurts himself on those claws; they’re at least an inch and a half long. You glance away hurriedly as he slouches again and taps the papers on his lap.

“Alright. So the case that I was hoping to use as a backbone for our own fell through. I’m assuming you don’t just want to settle?” When you shake your head, he goes on. “Good. Well, I shouldn’t say that, but…anyway, if you can have your managers begin collecting information on when and how many monster employees have resigned recently, that’s great. Those forms are to organize the information they give, with the highlighted questions the most important. If someone can collect statements from them on _why_ they resigned, that’s better. I’ll talk with a few of them too. My partner and I are going to pursue this from a harassment and workplace-rights violation standpoint, so we need all the incriminating evidence against the Vaccarello family we can get.”

You nod. “I can do that. We still have their contact information. Hey, Felix?” He looks up from where he’s reassembling his briefcase. “Do you know _why_ they’re going after monsters like this? What do they want?”

His face darkens, and he shuts the case with a ‘click’. “No” he says flatly. “I wish I did. But they aren’t the first; gangs have been stepping up the violence more and more lately. Dr. Alphys, the physicist over at the University, lives in a gated community, but she still gets graffiti on her house and threats slipped under her door at work.”

You shudder, imagining it. “But Amala Vaccarello is taking this so personally! She’s harassed businesses before, but she usually loses interest. What’s so different this time?”

The cat shrugs, heartbreakingly nonchalant. “It happens all the time, Ms.______. Humans don’t like monsters, they never have.” You watch him, eyes narrowed as he stands and puts his coat on.

With a sudden surge of determination, you grab a piece of scrap paper and scribble your phone number on it. “Hey, forget the ‘Miss’. We’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other, right? And here. Just in case.” You give him your phone number quickly, before you lose your nerve.

He takes it, giving you the oddest look. “We don’t usually communicate with clients like this…”

You clench your jaw slightly, waiting for him to reject the offer of friendship. They always do…

“…but hey, you’re pretty cool, buddy. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be friends outside of work, yeah?”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s waving his phone under your nose. “If I don’t get your number now, I’ll forget to put it in by the time I get home.”

You type it in quickly and hand the phone back. Then with a few last farewells, he’s leaving, and you’re trying vainly to find a place for The Rock that’s somewhat out of the way.

_______________

By the time he makes it back to his apartment, he’s practically ready to collapse. First the call this morning from Queen Toriel, a tentative suggestion that something bad was brewing on the other side of town, and now this…

Humans didn’t do things like his people did. Okay. But how could they _not_ be at least somewhat moved by what he’d witnessed? There you’d stood, proud and angry as you pushed a kit behind you, declaring your property and your protection over it-

-and the humans had just gone on like nothing?

The no-seeing he’d put over himself had only lasted a short time, just long enough for him to remain unnoticed while the police came and drug that woman away. But how he'd wished he could have been closer, could have helped in some way. And of course you hadn't read the book, now that he thinks about it. The official introduction books had been delivered on the day you'd told him all this started.

When he tosses his coat over a chair, a little piece of paper flutters out of the pocket. When he snatches it from the air and flips it over, it's the phone number you’d given him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are assuming, in this world at least, that a degree to practice 'law' can be gotten in four years. Just roll with it. And yes, it IS actually possible to get a four year degree in one, I knew someone that did: they were miserable and exhausted, but between testing out of certain classes and combining online work with real sessions, they successfully got a business degree in about one year, 3 months. 
> 
> I am iffy to death about Lawyerpants' assumption about Reader, simply because I don't want people screeching Mary Sue. Tell me what you think. 
> 
> So...the plot gets pricklier! And also a little bit boring, but that's what you get in a text-heavy chapter. There were some points that had to be made. I promise more entertaining things to come! And hey, now our favorite Cat has Reader's number ;)
> 
> come complain about my ignorance of judicial process on tumblr with me- beewritesstuff


	5. Remembrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

“Pudding! Shits sake, cat!”

Who’d have guessed that your fat little cat could run that fast? Yet the second you open your door, out she goes in a flash. You just wanted to come home, take a shower, make your apartment look somewhat presentable for your new neighbor’s visit…

“Pudds! Here pudddy baby, come’ere!”

Unless she can open the door to the stairwell, she has to be in the hall.

“Oh? U…um, hello?”

The door down from you is open, quiet music spilling out, and you hear someone talking. Before you can say anything, out steps Napstablook, Pudding held firmly in their arms. They’re addressing the cat as she purrs away, instantly happy that someone picked her up.

“It’s not safe for Temmies to run around like that…you could get hurt….but… oh, hello…”

You grimace, shifting on your feet. “Hey, uh, Napstablook. Sorry about that, here.” You walk over and take Pudding, who immediately begins to struggle. “Oh no, you little turd. Not this time.”

Napstablook leans against the wall, fidgeting with their fingers and watching as you push the cat inside your apartment and quickly shut the door.

“I never, um, knew t-there were Temmies…on the surface.”

You rack your brain, trying so hard to be polite.

“I’m sorry, what’s? Temmies?”

Napstablook nods. “Temmies. Little…monsters like that? They talk a lot, and…they’re a little, um…well, they’re nice, but…” They shrug, searching for the right term. “They look like…like that. But they talk. Always.”

You snort, you can’t help it. “Well, no, that was a cat. They can’t talk like we do. But these Temmies sound fun?”

On a less attractive figure, the face Napstablook makes would be awful. “They lived near m-my old house. They kept trying to get into my cousins house too, but I…I didn’t want them to ruin anything. In case…in case they came back.”

There’s a tone in their voice that hints at something ugly. But before you can ask, they stutter out, “I’ll…I’ll be over at 8….”, turn around and walk quickly back to their apartment, letting the door shut behind them.

Sliding through the door of your own apartment, you take off your coat and scritch your silly cat on the head, wondering just who Napstablook’s cousin was, and why they sounded even sadder than usual.

________

It’s amazing what nervous energy can accomplish. You’d cleaned for almost an hour and a half, and the apartment finally looked less messy, and more…extra-lived in. The living room was cleared out at least. Which was good, because your new neighbor had the contents of your laptop and t.v. spread out over the entire surface of the room.

Apparently, getting your body made by Honda also gave you some sort of built in tech support, because Napstablook was happily picking out screws as thin as an eyelash from the guts of your poor old computer without even looking at it. You watch them for a while, fascinated when they gracefully settle into the middle of your floor, as if the concept of furniture was a foreign one. Eventually though, you remember you haven’t eaten since that morning, and start rooting around in the kitchen.

“Hey, Napstablook? Do you want something for dinner? I mean, if you eat? Dinner? Oh god.”

You cringe at yourself, but Napstablook takes pity.

“Oh…no. Thank you.”

Their stuttering, nervous speech had smoothed out a bit since they’d come over, their mind plainly elsewhere. You shrug, and go back to searching for frozen peas.

You finally get the peas on the stove, and a skillet heated up with some chicken in it, and are relaxing back against the counter-

“I’ve never s-s-seen so much…so much salt in one place before. “

-when Napstablook speaks up from _right behind you_ , so close that your surprised jump knocks you into them. They catch you easily, one unyielding arm shooting out to grab you around the waist even as they fiddle with the canister of sea salt on your counter.

For a moment you stay that way, delighted at their ease in holding you up one-handed. Whoever had designed the robotic shell of their body had a clear sense of Napstablook’s aesthetic in mind, with silver ‘bones’ covered in translucent silicon skin, the visible joins tinted blue for effect. It was pretty, in an alien way.

“Some monsters are made of mostly magic, like…like ghosts. But other monsters are more…corporeal. They need certain t-things to live, like humans do.”

You slide away slowly, not daring to jostle the ghost as they stare sadly at the cheap plastic jar of salt in their hands. Their robotic voice is…accented somehow, the beginnings of a slight lilt creeping in, as if the memories take them back to a time the world sounded different.

“After the war, when we were driven up the trail of dust…monsters gathered seeds along the way, anything they could…but it took a long time for the plants to grow with magic instead of sunlight. And there was no…no livestock, no meat. My family discovered underground snails to farm…and places where saltwater trickled down the rock walls…it would have taken so long to make this much salt. It was so precious...”

They jiggle the plastic jar, watching as the little crystals slide over each other. The apartment is silent for a long moment, with Napstablook lost in the past and you an onlooker to an ancient tragedy. Then the moment passes, Napstablook sets down the salt, and you’re left wondering at just how old your neighbor is. How much they’ve seen.

But something else had caught your attention too…

“Napstablook? What’s the ‘Trail of Dust’?”

They sigh, a tiny noise whiffling through hidden speakers. “The path monsters…were made to take into the mountain. So many monsters died…or were killed…that n-nothing grows there now. The ground is mixed with…with their dust.”

You shiver. How many times had you walked that short path yourself, where it ended at an invisible wall a ways up the mountain? How many graves had you stepped on, unknowing? When you fell and skinned your knee there as a child…when your mother had cleaned out the cut, whose body had you rinsed down the sink?

You feel a crawling on your back, like ancient, unseen sins are whispering over your skin. “I’m…oh god, I’m so sorry. I know it does no good, but…”

“Thank you.”

It’s the clearest you’ve ever heard them speak.

_________________________

Its late, your computer is running beautifully, and somehow Napstablook also managed to fix that grainy line that your t.v. always had through the screen. You’re both sitting there now, leaning back against the couch and flipping through informercials and trashy soap operas, giggling together at the random blips of talk that comes through.

It’s the first time in a long time that you think, maybe, you might have made a friend.

When you look over at them after a while, you notice Napstablook’s eyes are closed, their finger tracing gently over the ‘H’ logo etched into their glass waist.

“Hey Napstablook? If you don’t mind me asking...why’d you go to a human company like Honda? Couldn’t monsters have done you better, like the scientist that designed the robot Mettaton?”

In the dark, the shadows on their face shift when their jaw clenches slightly. “Honda has m-monster scientists too now…and Mettaton…isn’t a p-person anymore. Mettaton...is a brand. He forgot everyone t-that cared about him, even… his family. I didn’t want…I didn’t want to be like that.”

Wait, _his_ family?

Oh….

OH.

“Is Mettaton…like you? Is he a ghost too?”

When they don’t answer, you figure you guessed right.

“Shit, I’m sorry…But…that DJ that did all his concerts and those live remixes…that was you? YOU’RE that cousin? Oh my god! I heard you guys once on the radio, you were amazing!”

That same, pearlescent blush creeps over their cheeks, and they look down to hide their face.

“T-t…thanks. Shyren…still performs with Mettaton sometimes. But he wanted me to match him, and I didn’t want to…so I left.”

You reach over, and awkwardly hug them one armed. “You shouldn’t have to ‘match’ anyone, you’re your own person! Besides, I think you look pretty cool...”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you’re cringing at your own lameness. But then Napstablook throws their arms around your neck, and the weight of them is so comforting, you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you smooch a ghost? (I would)
> 
> Well not in this story, you won't. But you can sure hug a ghost!


	6. Just an innocent little plant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

“No…no, but, but Blooks wait, what if…what if _you_ were a giant robot?!”

“I-I-I…heehee I…dunno….”

So ghost liquor is a thing. A thing that, looking back, you’ll probably regret. But for now its past midnight, you and Napstablook had screwed around on Netflix for a good half hour before settling on Pacific Rim, and you’re also both wonderfully drunk after you told them all about your awful day. There’s a pleasant warmth zinging under your skin; less like the effects of normal alcohol, and more like caffeine without the jitters. You honestly can’t bring a bad memory to mind; they slip away when you try.

For once in a long time, you’re just…happy.

Apparently it effects Napstablook the same way (even though they ‘drink’ it by pouring it through their waist), because they suddenly collapse over onto your lap, giggling. Pudding, who’d been laying against your hip, grumbles and jumps up onto the couch.

“Sorry…sorry…” Napstablook mumbles to the cat. You just groan and try to move your legs; no luck. Whatever powers Napstablook must be a damn nuke, because their body weighs a _ton._

“Hey Napstablook?”

“Hm?” They’re busy tracing patterns over the skin of your thighs, exposed since you’d changed into pajamas. You giggle when they hit somewhere ticklish and swat their hand away. It’s like swatting a steel beam, but they play along and let their hand fall.

“Just…thanks for talking to me. And coming over here, and being my friend, and and…thanks. After all that shit went on at the hotel…it’s nice to have a friend.”

You feel them smile against your leg, before they turn on their back to look at you. “I…I never really had friends Underground…it got easier being up here, being…inside something.” They tap their own arm. “It feels safer. But…you’re easy to talk to. Y-you’re nice, you must have lots of f-friends.”

You feel a blush creep over your cheeks. “Not really. After college, they all kinda…left.” Now you’re grateful that Napstablook’s stash had driven all the ugly thoughts from your mind; you have this vague feeling that they probably wouldn’t like you anymore if you told them the whole story. You reach back to run your fingers over Pudding’s ears, letting the ugly feeling fade.

Napstablook huffs, throwing an arm over their eyes. “Humans are….are the worst. E-except you. I looooooooooooooooooooooooooove you.”

Then they lurch up, press a clumsy kiss to your cheek…and their body collapses back down lifeless as an honest-to-god, bedsheet-looking ghost phases out of it and passes out on your floor.

You can’t even bring yourself to care.

“Love you too Blooks.”

____________________

***ringilly ring-ring-ring! ringidy ringy ringring!***

“Ugh…_________, h-here.”

You squint your eyes open moments after a shrill beeping wakes you up, only to have a phone smushed against your face.

“Thanks Blooks…”

God, the screens bright even at 0%. You blindly stab at the unlock code a few times before you get it right, and are greeted by a text from a number you don’t know.

_11:23am-Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice yesterday. A notepad on your desk must have gotten knocked into my case, but your office says you didn’t come in today? It’s phone numbers and addresses. -Felix LP_

Shit. Shit shit shit.

You fire a quick text to your dad, telling him you’re okay, and that you’d just overslept after a friend came over. His quick reply of, “You made a friend? Good! No worries, we’re not too busy” makes you smile, before a muted ‘thump’ from your kitchen draws your attention.

Before you can ask though, Napstablook appears around the corner with a glass of water. They hand it to you, staring at the ground. “S-sorry if…if your head hurts, or…well, I read that humans get sick if they d-drink.”

You scoff even as your head pounds. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll live. Last night was…it was nice.”

They look at you incredulously for a moment, then smile. “R-r-r-really? I thought it was n-nice too! But…I have to go feed my s-snails, okay?”

You flap your hand at them, perfectly comfortable on the ground. Pudding jumps down to curl up against your stomach. “Let yourself out, I’ll just…stay here for a while. Have fun.”

The door clicks shut and you’re squinting at your phone, when a new text comes through.

_11:25- I have an appointment today and tomorrow, so I’m gonna have to mail it to you. Address, if you don’t mind?_

He had your datebook? Oh well. You add him to your contacts and text him your address, debating whether or not you should add a smiley face or something….no, he kept it professional. You should too.

Groaning, you struggle to your feet and pad into the bathroom, Pudding following behind. As you strip off last night’s pajamas, your phone rings again.

_11:43- Thanks. I’ll drop it at the post office today._

Oh shit, wait. It’s less than a week before Christmas, it’ll take forever to get to your house. You hesitate, then before you can lose courage, send:

_Hey I’m sorry, but it’s close to Christmas, can I pick it up from you somehow? If you leave it at your office, can I get it there? It’ll take forever through the mail._

Turning the phone up so you can hear if he answers, you crawl into the shower and give a college try at being respectable.

He doesn’t answer until you’re done and mostly dressed, sitting in your living room and checking whatever emails might have come in about work. You’re just reading through all the last minute request-offs, when…

_12:37: Oh…well if it’s not too much of a problem, then sure. Do you still have my card? The office address is first on the list._

You do in fact. You keep it on your nightstand where you sometimes fiddle with it at night, still fascinated by the magic that Felix waved off like it was nothing.

_Yeah! Thanks. I’ll be by…sometime. Napstablook and I had a late night, do you know them?_

Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to reach out, tried to make conversation…but hey, somehow you managed to not fuck up one burgeoning friendship so far.

He answers before you even sit the phone down.

_12:38- Napstablook? Like ghost musician Napstablook? Doesn’t talk to anyone, doesn’t leave their house except to perform with mettaton Napstablook?_

You can’t tell if he’s being funny or mean.

_Hey, they’re cool! They moved in next door. And they don’t even talk to Mettaton anymore, I don’t think._

_12:40- Good. Smart of them._

Geez. Had Felix known Mettaton or something? Yes, the star seemed like they were shitty in the past but damn that’s a little harsh.

You send back that you’ll be at his office around 3, and are just opening a new tab to try and learn more about Felix and Mettaton’s past, when inspiration strikes.

Napstablook had given you their phone number, right? Who better to ask for dirt on their own cousin?

_Hey, you still home? I wanted to ask you about someone named Felix Lawyerpants. He’s the attorney for that mess I told you about last night._

_12:42- you’re using first names?_

_Yeah?_

_12:45- oh, okay. you should come over._

**_Well._** The dirt _must_ be good.

You wander down the hall, carrying Pudding along, and knock awkwardly on their door.

“I-It’s unlocked…”

Opening the knob with your elbow, you let the cat jump down and saunter over to her new best friend…then _really_ take a look around your neighbor’s apartment.

“Holy shit Blooks.”

Most of their living room is set up like a professional sound studio, with multiple screens, boards, and various other bits and pieces laying around. There’s a light box, and a strange casket-looking thing that you figure must have something to do with Napstablook’s body. It all looks expensive, and you suddenly wonder just what in the bloody hell they DO for a living.

“It’s…nothing much. M-most of it is from sponsors, I do the sound for Honda’s conferences and…and commercials.”

Well that explains it.

They have one couch in pristine condition, as well as the dining room set that came with the apartment. Along the wall where you keep your tv is a gigantic glass terrarium, home to what looks to be a few snails the size of basketballs. You wander over to these while Napstablook fusses over your cat for a minute, watching as they make their way slowly across the plants and stones of their home.

“Those were…my pets, underground. I went back for them.”

Napstablook steps up beside you and puts a hand to the glass. Immediately, the snails start toward them, their little eyes stretching up towards the glass, and you can’t help but smile. They _are_ sort of cute.

“So what’s the deal with LP and Mettaton? Look at this text.”

You hand Napstablook your phone and go back to playing with the snails. You find one of many little doors in the glass, and are busy trying to pet one as it sucks back into its shell each time, when Napstablook hums.

“Lawyerpants…used to be B-Burgerpants.”

You nod, giving up on petting the snail. Napstablook waves you toward the couch.

“Please…sit down. I don’t, usually. Anyway, Burgerpants went to work for Mettaton at the resort underground. M-Mettaton was supposed to…supposed to teach them about acting, and in payment, Burgerpants would w-w-work in the resort’s restaurant.”

You settle back in your seat, starting to get a picture of what happened. “But Mettaton didn’t, did he?”

Napstablook shakes their head, looking grim. “Mettaton…Mettaton broke a promise that he shouldn’t have broken. Lawyerpants’ family is old, even though t-there aren’t many of them left. M-Mettaton went back on an old tradition, trading lessons for work.”

You whistle under your breath. “He seems to be doing good things now, at least. Mettaton I mean. He should apologize to Felix.”

The ghost snorts, turning to look at something on the setup behind them. “Mettaton will _never_ apologize. Never ever.”

Well, they’d know their own cousin better than you, but…

“Hey, Napstablook? Maybe you should talk to him. Like…really talk. Tell him that he screwed up. Cause if he’s some of your last family, and he’s willing to be different…just, think about it, okay?” You sigh, looking away. “I only have my dad. I wish things had turned out different for us.”

They stare at you, unmoving and unblinking, before finally whispering, “Maybe.”

__________________________

You can’t believe this is Felix’s practice. It’s small, but it looks e _xpensive._ All white and silver on the outside, one of many office-type places in a stylish strip of buildings. The name, **LP &V, Summit Civil Rights Office**, is over the door in plain steel letters.

 When you step in the front door though, you’re surprised at the veritable jungle that greets you. Every window has two or three hanging pots of various kinds, and every wall has a planter full of trailing vines. Even the coffee tables have pots of small mosses and succulents on them, catching the afternoon sun.

There’s a light-elemental of some kind behind the desk; they flash you a dazzling (literally) smile, and hand over your book. The mirrored wall behind them reflects their light so brightly, it leaves spots in your eyes.

“Mr. Felix apologizes for his absence and the trouble!”

You smile at them, but your attention is drawn by a tiny pot of plants under a huge glass bell on the counter. “What is this, do you know?” You step closer, squinting. The plant, or plants, are a series of tiny clusters of leaves, all of them draped with white threads. The threads themselves give off a faint light, and you swear that they’re starting to move….

“Miss? Miss! Miss, be careful!”

You jump when something like the sparks a firework throws off touches your arm, then grips it. It’s the light elemental, a look of concern flaring over their features. “Miss, I’m so sorry, wisp plants don’t usually react to humans this way. Please don’t be alarmed, the glass contains it.”

When you look back down at the pretty little plant, you gasp and jerk back. What was once a little plant topped with tiny threads of light is now a collection of white-hot, venomous-looking spines, like a sea urchin, long enough that they’re touching the top of the glass bell. They must be at least two feet long, and all of them bristle in your direction, with errant bits breaking off and flitting around, like they’re trying to call you.

“What IS that thing?” you whisper, eyes wide.

“It’s a ‘Willow’ Wisp, miss. They act as a warning for magic, so we keep them in each room of the office. In case clients come with bad intentions.”

You frown, staring at the alien plant as, very slowly, it withers back onto itself and turns into a glitter-draped cluster of leaves once more. “Why doesn’t it react to you?”

The elemental, who was already starting to turn away, looks back with a thoughtful expression. “I am its keeper and caretaker, and I infuse our employees’ magic into the water I use on it and the others. I’m…happy that you asked. Most humans don’t care to know about such things.”

Busily running your finger over the glass, and watching as the threads follow it daintily, you murmur, “My favorite kind of story when I was little was fairy tales. Now there’s real magic in the world…who _wouldn’t_ be interested?”

That gets you a smile from the elemental, who taps a finger on the glass with the sound of a lighter striking. “Here now, be nice.” Then, suddenly, they ask, “Would you like to see it? It won’t hurt you now that I’m paying attention.”

There should probably be some kind of survival instinct in you that says ‘absolutely not’, but…

“Can I really? It won’t hurt the plant?” You sit your purse and datebook on the floor, pushing back your sleeves. The elemental laughs, and gently lifts the glass bell off. “No, it won’t hurt it. You must have been spending quite a bit of time around a monster with lots of magic lately, for it to react to a human!”

Slowly, gently, you reach out and barely touch a thread of light wavering above the soil. “Made friends with a ghost…” you murmur, entranced as the little plant taps at your fingertip, then eagerly wraps around your hand. “It’s so small, it doesn’t look like it could even make those spikes like that.”

The elemental gives some kind of explanation, but all your attention is on the wisp. It’s pulsing softly now, brighter and brighter, threads of it detaching from the base of leaves and flickering into the air. You giggle when one lands on your arm, another across your hair.

“Oh miss…look at that, it likes you now! It’s showing off, the naughty thing.”

Over and over, bits and strands of the plant’s strange, thread-like tendrils disconnect and float into the air; some lingering around the light elemental, but most either draping over you, or hanging just out of your reach. You laugh aloud, elated as the tiny veins of pure light drape over your plain shirt and hands, or dangle off your hair like bits of silver. A slight, tingling warmth washes over you, spreading out from your heart and back again as you carefully pull your phone from your pocket and hold it out to the elemental.

“Here, please take my picture! This is amazing!”

Giggling, the elemental holds up your phone. In a sudden streak of inspiration, you pull your hand through the air over your face just as the camera goes off. When the elemental shows you the picture, the area over your face and chest is obscured by tiny sparkles of light, your features a blur in the background.

“It’s a very good picture, miss!”

“You took it!”

The plant finally starts to dim as you both laugh, and you twitch as, bit by bit, the wisp’s threads evaporate off your skin in tiny puffs of sparks. Looking around, you realize the room is darker than it was when you arrived; the sun sets so early this time of year.

As you watch yourself in the mirror, following the last few tendrils of light as they puff away into nothing, the door to the office opens.

“So yes, your majesty, if it comes to it, we’d be more than happy to…”

You and the elemental both turn when the cold blows in from outside, to find Felix speaking to a beautiful, white-furred monster woman.

Your eyes widen when suddenly you recognize the other person from news broadcasts and videos.

The Queen of Monsters, Toriel Dreemurr.

The elemental beside you drops their head, murmuring, “Your majesty”, and you follow suit, fumbling over the unfamiliar phrase.

Then, soft fingers lift your chin up, and a kind voice says, “Perhaps I should be saying that to you, my child. It isn’t every day a Willow Wisp crowns a human.” When she sees your puzzled look, she smiles and turns you to face the mirrored wall. “Look!”

There, draped across your forehead and hair, is one last, glowing thread of the wisp. It really does look like a circlet of some kind, just before it flashes once and sparkles out of existence.

“I told her, she must have spent time around a very magical creature recently! It loved her, your majesty!”

When you turn back to the elemental and the Queen as they chat, your gaze is drawn to the wisp again. It’s gone sharp and bristling near where the Queen’s hand rests on the counter, a hand it _doesn’t recognize_ , and you swear it almost looks like it’s drawing back, like a snake…

“Watch out!” You reach out and push the Queen out of the way, but not quickly enough-

*SPLITCH*

Five thin, sharp needles pierce through the back of your hand between the bones, so fast that you barely get a cry out before they withdraw again, waiting.

Then, everything happens at once. The elemental slams the glass bell back over the pot, speaking to it quickly in a language you can’t understand. The Queen gasps, and suddenly, Felix appears at your side, leading you over to sit in one of the lobby chairs and dropping to his knees beside it. Gently, ever so gently, he takes your hand between his, your blood spreading across the fur of his wrist as it drips from your hand. The sharp, piercing pain that had shot up your arm lessens, then goes entirely numb. Tiny flashes of violet light flicker across the fur of his paws, crawling a short distance up your arm before vanishing.

“Are you alright?” he murmurs, catching your eye as you pointedly look away from the blood dripping to the tile floor. You croak something, clear your throat, and try again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I can’t blame the wisp plant, it was just doing its job. I got in its way, I’m sorry.”

A big, gentle hand grips your shoulder, and you look up to see the Queen smiling at you. “Well you can certainly blame me, I should have known better than to be near it. Though I wish it wouldn’t have hurt you instead. You are very forgiving.”

You answer her with a shakey smile of your own, and she turns back to the Wisp plant as it struggles furiously under it's glass shield.

A gentle tugging inside your hand draws you back, but when you glance down, Felix is still as stone. “Nice to see you again” you whisper to the cat, who rolls his eyes good humoredly in response.

“It could have been nicer” he says, then with a wink, pulls his hands away from yours to set it on the arm of the chair. You look down, only to see in horror five neat, round holes in the back of your hand. You squeak out the beginnings of a protest, but stop when the Queen calls,

“Hush child, wait. He has stopped the bleeding, let him close the wounds.”

Across from you, the cat lifts both paws in the air, one held over the other as if he grips a pencil, and something twinges in your flesh, like a string pulling beneath your skin. He’s humming something in his throat, a breath of a song, and starts passing one hand over and under the other. As he does, the neat holes in your hand slowly shrink one at a time, smaller and smaller before vanishing.

Finally, it dawns on your shocked brain that he’s sewing them shut, literally, with magic. There’s no pain, or any sensation at all really, except a tiny tingling rush across your skin. By the time the fourth puncture shrinks and vanishes, his paws are shaking slightly, but his gaze stays fixed on your hand. He starts the same motion again, stops, tries again, stops…

“Rua, there’s still a piece of the Wisp left in this one.” His voice is very low, a forced calm that instantly puts you on edge. The elemental, Rua apparently, hurries over.

“I thought I saw a broken end…here, let me, it'll come out for me.”

She holds one flickering hand over yours, and suddenly you’re opening your mouth to scream as a brilliant, white heat sears up in your arm! It hurts worse than the time you broke your wrist, hurts worse than when They beat you and shattered the bones in your hand- a pulsing, blinding pain that leaves you screaming and clawing at your own flesh.

The last thing you see is fine, spidering veins of light that creep up your flesh like molten lace, before your eyes roll back and you hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> dedicated to the time I passed out after I put a nail through the back of my hand with a nailgun


	7. Okay Okay I'll Make A Real Title- Don't Touch Ladies Purses Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

To say Felix is concerned would be an understatement.

Felix is  _terrified._ Not only that you would die, that the venom of the Wisp would eat you from the inside out until it reached your bright, brilliant Soul and stilled its light…but that the humans would find out, will blame him and all monsters along with him, until there's a second war.

A second mountain.

They’re already so close to war, in a quiet, ugly way. Even as the quiet majority learned to accept monsterkind, the loud minority raged and steeped in its own hatred, ecstatic at every excuse to cause harm.

And this is one _hell_ of an excuse.

He stands there, fretting, as Rua whispers, slowly drawing the beautiful poison from your blood. When someone touches his shoulder he almost jumps out of his skin, but it's just the Queen.

“Felix dear, have you her address, if she is your client? I fear…I fear that to take her to a human hospital would do greater harm all around, than to help her quietly in her own home.”

“I…think so too…” he whispers, staring at the ground for a moment, composing himself. Then, taking a deep breath, walks back to his private office. Shuffling around in the paperwork strewn across his desk proves fruitless, and a quick search in the practice’s database is equally unhelpful. Where was it, they should have it.... _no,_ they had her fathers home address, not hers. 

He paces back out to the lobby in time to see Rua slowly pull her hand back, glittering bits of Wisp hanging in the air between her palm and your hand. You seem unconscious, but your body is reacting poorly- you're shivering all over, and your breath is coming in shallow, hitching gasps as the veins of light recede down your bared arm. Murmuring, he sends a wave of healing magic your way; you take a deep breath and settle a little. After a moment, Rua sits back.

“Majesty, the Wisp is removed…but I believe there is still some damage, could you look? If we could move her somewhere safer, she should be watched for a little while.”

The Queen walks over to help Rua, but Felix’s attention is on your pocket as your cellphone clatters onto the floor when Toriel shifts you slightly.

Her _cellphone!_ That’s right, you had texted him your home address! And hadn’t you said something about Napstablook, that you were friends?

“Hey, I have her address. And she’s friends with Napstablook too, they’re neighbors apparently. We can take her home, get Napstablook to help us.”

Toriel looks up, concerned. Felix smothers the irritation that she's stepped up to help you; he's the better healer. “But would that not cause a scene? If anyone sees you carrying a human girl unconscious…”

Felix grins then, a little manically. “Majesty…you forget what I am.”

_____________

 _‘The damn girl is more trouble than she’s worth’_ he thought grumpily, checking his mirror often to be sure the Queen was still following in your car, with Rua behind to take her home. He’d adamantly refused to touch your purse, (“My mother taught me to never touch a woman’s bag!”), and finally, Toriel had been the one to fish out your car keys from the assorted junk all women seemed to tote around with them. Then came the joy of actually getting you to his own car; a no-seeing was hard enough to cast around himself, much less around another person as one carried them.

Still, it had gone off without a hitch. There’d been no one around to see anything, though there had been nothing to see, and you'd stayed blessedly knocked out for the whole affair.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing. Just that morning, the Queen had requested him to her home personally after a couple of monster’s homes (and a humans) had been firebombed. Firebombed! Alphys and her partner’s had even been hit, though mostly with graffiti, and the Queen had wanted his advice on making a statement to the public. Apparently, the skeleton brothers had roomed up with this other human girl, and now they were part of the mess too. At least they were staying in a better place than they’d had before; he’d settled more suits than he wanted to count with the landlord of their previous apartments.

He made the drive in silence, wrapped in those thoughts. So wrapped up in fact, he didn’t notice right away when the light ahead of him suddenly changed to allow an ambulance through. With a start as the car in front of him slammed to a stop, he too shoved the brake down, instinctively throwing an arm out to keep you from flying forward against the dash.

Waiting for the light to change and muttering curses, he tried to pull his arm back…but was stopped. You were gripping his paw in your hand, the uninjured one, and had slid slightly down in your seat towards him. Your lips were parted slightly, and a stray bit of hair fell over one eye.

Gently, he slid free of your grip, and, before he could reconsider, tucked the lock of hair behind your ear. It was soft against the pads of his paw, but a little tangle made it bunch slightly against your head. As the light changed, he deftly worked three claws through the knot until it lay flat and proper where it belonged. You made a little sound in the back of your throat, like a kit’s murmur, and settled against his palm.

He didn’t have the heart to pull his hand back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An interlude of Cat appreciation.
> 
> No but honestly, I wanted to split up the POV's. I don't _usually_ do another POV in an insert fic, but I wanted to get across the attitude of Felix Lawyerpants a little better. So I hope it worked out well?


	8. You Just Watch Some Sports

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

“….cell phone? Perhaps there is a number for…”

-

“….Majesty, here’s the address she gave me…”

-

“…gently, Lawyerpants…”

-

-

-

You squint your eyes open, a pounding in your head making you cringe from the bright streetlamp overhead. Something is jostling you slightly, and your face is pressed against a soft, warm surface. A cold wind cuts across your hands for a moment; you clench them against your chest where they lay, and nuzzle closer to the warmth against your side.

-

“H-hey, _____, y-you’d better wakeup now…”

Something is shaking you gently, making you groan as the pounding in your head worsens. “Okay, okay…” you slur out, slowly opening your eyes.

You’re in…your own apartment? Yes, you have to be, because the weight on your legs is Pudding, purring away. Beside the couch you’re stretched out on, Napstablook is kneeling on the floor.

“Nnn-“ you try, but your mouth is too dry. They hand you a bottle of water, then reach back to help you when your hands shake too badly to drink by yourself. When they take it back, you try again.

“Blooks, hey…what happened?” You’re surprised at how hoarse you sound, but Napstablook answers all the same.

“You g-got poisoned by a W-Wisp. The Q-Q-Queen, and Lawyerpants brought you back here.”

“WHAT?!” you whisper-shriek, half sitting up before the pain in your skull makes you lay flat again. “Oh my god no, the Queen can’t see me like this!”

Of course, that’s the moment that the Queen herself appears around the corner of the kitchen. “Child, do not fret. When we are sick or hurt, we cannot help how we look. I am only glad that you were healed so easily. Your body reacted well to magic.”

You shiver slightly, the _disgusting_ feeling of wisp-in-hand coming back. The moment you do, Napstablook lays a gentle hand on your arm, peace and calmness radiating from their touch like heat from a flame. “We’ll s-stay here for a while, don’t worry. You c-can…go to sleep more.”

“Goody…” you murmur, already drifting off again.

____________

**_“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”_ **

You jump so hard, you almost clear the back of the couch as a _blaring_ wall of sound cuts through the room.

“Shit, sorry! Sorry! Was just gonna watch tv while you slept!”

You risk cracking one eye open, to find Felix frantically trying to find the ‘mute’ button on your tv remote. Finally, Napstablook takes pity and presses the button over his shoulder, shutting off the noise, and Felix mutters a grudging ‘thanks’. He’d actually _puffed up_ , like a startled housecat, though he’s quick to smooth his paws across his face once Napstablook takes the remote and starts playing with the volume.

A tiny giggle escapes your throat, and instantly Felix whips around to shoot you a dirty look. But try as you might, you can’t fight it; even his tail got fluffy! You hold your hands up in helpless surrender, unable to entirely wipe the smile off your face, and after a moment, Felix relents to begrudging chuckle himself, scratching the back of his neck.

“Blooks and I…were listening to music, sorry,” you whisper. In the background, the sound slowly climbs to a low murmur.

Felix hesitates, but when you slowly sit up and start carding through your hair in search of your hairtie, you KNOW you had one earlier, he steps around the coffee table, and pulls the tie off his wrist and hands it to you.

“The Queen took it off, but she had to go home. So…here. I’ll stay for a little, make sure you’re okay.”

You take the tie from him, gingerly pulling your hair back from your face. Holding your hair back with one hand, you notice he’s still standing there, wavering between the seat next to you and the chairs across the way. You pat the cushion, scooting over to make more room, and after a moment, he settles in beside you. There’s a soft twinge in the hand the wisp got, but there’s no mark on the skin except five tiny pale spots, and it still works fine. Better than fine actually, now that you’re paying attention, you can bend your pinky again…

“Felix, did you...fix my hand?” You flex your fingers, and yes! They all work, you can bend your pinky, and your hand can stretch out flat again!

“Well yeah, you watched me, for the most part.” He’s fixated on the tv now, directing Napstablook through the channels in search of something rather than struggle with the remote himself.

“No, I’m being serious, there was something more than what that plant did. It was hurt from before, like…the bones weren’t set right, from a long time ago. But they’re okay now, did you do that?”

He turns to face you, cocking an eyebrow of whiskers. “I didn’t notice anything like that, no, but…I wasn’t looking. The Queen probably fixed it. Why, what was wrong?”

You grab the bottle of water from before off the table, using it to hide your face for a second. Finally, when you recap it, you’ve pulled enough of yourself back together to feed out the old lie. “It got broken in a moving accident, at college. Some tendons and bones were too hurt to heal right, and I couldn’t use it very well afterward.”

He grimaces at that, shivering a little. “Sounds rough buddy. But I’m glad the Queen fixed it for you...hey, wait!” He flaps a hand at Napstablook. “Go back a channel! Yeah, that!”

Lord preserve you, Felix likes sports.

After a few minutes of him and Napstablook (not them too!) chattering about whatever’s happening on screen, maybe baseball, you get up carefully and search around in your jacket and purse until you find your phone. When you sit back down and start playing around online, flexing your hand, they both suddenly let out a yell, or at least a quiet exclamation from Nastpablook and a yell from Felix, and you jump a little, peering at the screen to try and figure out what they’re excited about.

But honestly, you can’t tell. You’d never been much for sports, growing up, too busy pursuing your dream of going to college for music, and once _it_ had happened, your dad and you hadn’t hung out much. Shrugging, you look around to see where Pudding had disappeared to, but Felix catches your eye.

“Did you see that?! That slide was amazing, caught it by the toe of his shoe!” You smile at his enthusiasm, more than you’ve ever seen from the Cat, but shrug apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…know much about baseball. But it looked cool!”

And that’s that. Like the past guys you’ve known, he’ll shrug you off and go back to watching, and you’ll sit here alone in a room full of people…

He slides over closer, close enough that your thigh brushes his, and points at the screen.

“No, here, it’s easy! Watch, they’ll show a replay. So the second-baseman, that guy right? His job is to try and tag the guy running to him with the ball, to get him out. That means the running guy can’t play anymore this time around. So the running guy slides in under the baseman’s hand, to try and avoid getting tagged. And look, he just _barely_ stayed on the base! Caught the corner with his toe!”

Felix points it out as they show it on screen, with Napstablook commenting in the background, and yeah, you do see it now. It’s nerve wracking as they show it in slow motion, the guy slipping over the white base and barely staying on it by the toe of his sneaker, but at the same time, it’s fun! This is the first time someone’s ever bothered to explain ANYTHING like this to you, and with Felix explaining, you start to understand what once was just aimless noise and people running.

And so passes the remainder of your evening, first with the rest of the baseball game, then on a shitty sci-fi movie that has you all crying with laughter. At one point, Napstablook orders pizza, and you all have a good natured fight over toppings that ends with Napstablook simply holding the phone up out of yours and Felix's reach as they order a plain cheese and a pepperoni, thank you both very much. The food, ordered from a monster-human owned restaurant, has enough of a touch of magic in it that the lingering tiredness you'd felt is chased away. Felix too, seems enlivened by it, and wolfs half it himself. When you tease him for 'eating so much for such a skinny guy', he smiles genteelly, and flicks a piece of pepperoni right down your shirt. 

Later, as he's relaxing back and answering someone's text, you walk by and drop Pudding right into his lap. Your poor kitty, faced with a very much  _larger_ kitty, digs in her claws and dashes off, leaving Felix groaning and you laughing yourself to tears. 

Finally, you both settle in quietly again, sitting closer than you had when he'd first come over. He's easier with you too; more willing to just chat about whatever comes to mind. You learn that his parents are both long gone, that he'd lived with his grandmother underground, and that he had indeed worked for Mettaton (though he won't say anymore on the subjects). You tell him a little about your college days, just saying that you'd gone for a while, but had gotten too sick to stay and had dropped out for health reasons. He accepts it willingly enough, though he does say that he's sorry you had to leave. It's touching, and it pulls a smile to your lips even through the old memories. 

Periodically, he asks you to do something with your hand, flex it or move a finger at a time, as he stares at it and your arm with irises faintly rimmed in violet light, his eyes tracking something you can't see. After he does this for the third time, you ask, “Is that…what color your magic is then? Purple?”

He blinks, shakes his head slightly as if to clear it, and nods. “Yeah, well kinda…here.” He makes a motion, and suddenly, a faint purple light appears around his paws as he holds them in front of his chest. Napstablook ‘hm’s from the corner, but when you look over, their face is just…interested. 

“Is that your magic?” You ask, leaning closer.

There’s a light, yes, but it doesn’t seem to be coming from _him,_ exactly. It’s not really coming from anywhere, but it’s still there, radiating from…nothing? It makes no sense and yet something calls you there, a shape you can almost see, and without thinking, you reach up toward that space between his cupped paws where light like a prism’s rainbows plays…

And you touch something.

-

**_“DON’T EVER LET ME CATCH YOU DOING THAT AGAIN!”_ **

_A thousand sparkling lights in a sky of jetblack, darker than the night sky, as dark as a cavern’s unfathomable ceiling._

_- **“...I could be great! Even the King would ask me to perform for him if….”**_

_The smell of home, of something baking in the oven and that familiar, warm feeling of rest after a long day, the floor creaking in all the same places, a childish vase you made long ago sitting in a place of honor on a mantel._

**_“Burgerpants! Haha!”_ **

_A dream, long held on to, left to fester in an unescapable darkness, burnt away by blinding sunlight._

_“ **I love you so much, don’t forget. Don’t forget what you are.”**_

_Hide your feelings, hide your thoughts. **“…an amateur like YOU!”** Don’t let them know you, don’t hope, don’t pray. Hold yourself back, “ **Please, can’t anyone help her? She’s going to dust, please!”** keep it secret, keep it safe, you’re the last, you’re the last_

_the last_

-

You wrench your hands back, scooting to the far end of the couch, eyes wide and wondering at whatever you’d just felt…heard…lived?

 Felix is staring at you, one hand clenched protectively over the center of his chest, breath coming in heaves.

Then he’s up off the couch, grabbing his coat where it hangs off the back of a kitchen chair so fast it starts to fall, and out the door, a panicked look on his face, before you can even react.

The clattering of the wooden chair to the floor is the only sound after the door slams.


	9. Napstablook Probably Needs Alexander Technique Or Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

The tv seems much, much too loud in the silence, and maybe Napstablook is a bit of a mind reader because they turn it down until it’s just a murmur; background noise.

You barely notice though. All your attention is on the…the memories, the second life you just got a glimpse into, as if brushing the surface of what made a person ‘who’ they were.

“Napstablook…what the hell was that, what did I do?” You turn, suddenly shaking a little, to find them staring with wide eyes themselves. “Did I hurt him?!”

They blink, then slowly shake their head. “N…no, it didn’t look like you h-hurt him.”

You’re starting to panic now, the edge of fear that had somehow crept up your hand from Felix’s…something, was setting you terribly on edge. “Then what did I do, why did he run, _what was that?”_ You’re tearing up, goddamn it, it’s been too much in one day, and it seems to shake Napstablook out of whatever trance had held them.

“No, no, shhhh it’s okay, you didn’t h-hurt him.” They come over to sit by you on the couch, hesitantly putting an arm around your shoulders. “He was…showing you his Soul, the color of his magic. You shouldn’t have been able to touch it, b-but…you did. And that’s very…p-private amongst monsters.”

“His _what_?”

Napstablook sighs a little. “His Soul. The thing t-that makes him…alive, makes you alive.”

Wiping at your eyes, you snort a little. “That’s very poetic Blooks, but I’m being serious, wha-“

“-So am I.” And their face IS serious. “Souls are real. Monsters have them. Humans have them, but they can’t…can’t see them. Just the magic a monster’s soul makes, t-the light it gives off.”

You frown, trying to understand. “So his Soul is…purple? And I touched it?”

Napstablook shakes their head, plainly searching for words. “No, it’s…it’s like this.” They make a heart shape in front of their chest with their hands. “A monster’s Soul, i-if you can see it, is grey, because our magic c-comes from it to shape our bodies. But the m-magic is still _made_ in the Soul, so it’s like there’s light coming out of it. A-again, if you can see magic.”

Then, gently, they make a tugging motion at your chest, and you gasp as _something_ pulls free inside you, something very, very delicate and precious, and you can almost see it, can tell where to fix your eyes even though there’s nothing there.

“That’s your Soul. Human Souls HAVE c-color, because they have physical b-bodies for their Soul to stay in. So all the magic stays in their Soul, and makes it strong. But they can’t use it.”

You reach up, entranced, to cup your hands around what _feels_ like something, almost. “So…why could I see it, a little? Why can I feel this?”

Napstablook drops their hands, and your Soul, because it must be your Soul, sinks back into your chest comfortingly. “I don’t know.”

You give them a look. “That’s it?”

They throw up their hands, looking away for a moment. “I’m s-sorry! It might be that you’ve had a lot of m-monsters use….use magic on you, and plus I put some m-magic _in_ you earlier, to be sure you were okay, and…sorry….there’s a lot it could be. We….we haven’t b-been around humans enough to k-know all this yet…”

You reach over, hugging them back, feeling infinitely awful as their stutter starts to come back full force. “Hey, no, it’s okay. No worries. I’m just…freaked out. But Queen Toriel, she’s really powerful right? And Felix said she might have done something to me.”

Napstablook relaxes, leaning their head on yours. “I…hadn’t known that. T-that’s probably it, she knows Soul magic. Wisp poison hurts your Soul, s-she probably did something to protect yours, and it left m-magic there for a little while. You should um…text Felix.”

When you shake your head they jiggle you slightly, making you smile a little. “C-come on. He’s probably all…freaked out.”

You hide your face against their shoulder, your words muffled in the soft ‘skin’ that covers them. “He’ll yell at me…”

Napstablook snorts, you can feel the shake of their shoulders, and bounces you harder. “No he won’t, he l-likes you.”

There’s a tone to their voice that makes you sit up. “Were you guys…friends before?”

They shrug, turning away. After a while they say, quietly, “When I was…just myself, Underground, we were friends a l-little. T-then I started hanging out with Mettaton again above ground, and he…stopped talking to me.” Then they turn toward you, brightening a little. “But h-hey…he came over today, and we talked a little w-while you were asleep…”

You pat them on the knee as you root in the couch cushions for your phone. “I’m really happy for you then! You should have more friends.”

They look so horrified, you have to laugh. “Oh noooo…no, two friends is e-enough friends. Text Felix.”

You shuffle around, pulling your feet up onto the couch, trying to think of something to say. Finally, you just send,

_-I’m really sorry…Napstablook told me about Souls, I didn’t know. I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I? Sorry:(_

You wait a minute, but there’s no answer. Sighing, you toss your phone on the table, and stretch. “Okay mom, I texted him.”

Napstablook swats your knee, but they’re looking at the clock. “Hey, I s-should go. I have a project…a project that I have to finish.”

It hardly seems like a time to be working on projects, almost midnight in fact, but then again…Napstablook doesn’t have to sleep. “Okay, go on. I’d better go to bed too. They might need me tomorrow, I don’t know.”

They scruffle your hair, then jump out of the way when you try to grab them, laughing a little. “N-night _____”

You shoot them a withering look, but they’re already half out the door, half intangible. Apparently, Napstablook is still having trouble getting used to using doors and other physical barriers, but oh well. It’s a cool party trick.

You putter around for a while, feeding Pudding (who has finally deigned to emerge from your bedroom), doing the few dishes in your sink, and throwing away the pizza boxes and empty plastic cups. Halfway through, you hear your phone buzz, but like the brave soul you are, you ignore it.

Finally though, you’re out of distractions, and aren’t the least bit tired. You pick up the phone, holding it away from you like maybe that’ll make the incoming message less awful, and…

_Felix- It’s not your fault. Sorry I reacted like that._

Oh. Well then.

_-God, no, I get it. Napstablook said I shouldn’t have even been able to do that? So…it was pretty weird all around._

_Felix- No you shouldn’t have, but…didn’t want you seeing all the dirty laundry, you know?_

_-I didn’t see much, honest. Just…flashes. I have no idea what any of it was. Did it hurt? Are you okay?_

_Felix- No, it felt…_

-

It felt _wonderful._ And horrible. He didn't know, damn it all, it was terrifying and intimate, a combination that simultaneously made him want to scream and weep at once. Your touch had been gentle, your face had been gentle, hell, even your _mind_ had been gentle. You were so, so careful, even as you reached forward blindly and poked at the very culmination of his being, and it was like a cool rain over burnt ground, like a forest fire, like cure and poison, like…

It was like having a friend, and a lover, and a madman holding you at gun point all at once.

He’d sat there in his car, panting, staring at your apartment building’s door with wide eyes, ready to bolt, clutching his chest in horror as he relived, over and over, what YOU had seen too. Had you understood? Had you guessed?

The whole, shakey, terrible ride home, he’d been thinking and thinking. The majority of him, the part that was proud of his new-found profession and position, and respect with the world, was horrified. But some tiny part of him was desperate for him to go back, for him to beg you to say it was okay, that you understood, that HE’D be okay because honestly? That was looking more like a pretty grim chance every day.  

That tiny part grew louder and louder as he fumbled his way into his apartment, dropping clothes as he went, to collapse back in bed amongst the tangles of bedclothes. Then he grunted and had to shift, because tails were _obnoxious_ and possibly had a mind of their own, and knew exactly how to get in the way all the time. He groaned, scrubbing his hands back over his ears, smashing them flat as if it would block out the angry whirlwind of thoughts and wants all clamoring for attention at once in his mind.

God he was just…just so, _so_ tired. So tired. College had been so fast, so extensive and all-consuming, that he had barely enough time to sleep, much less think or worry about the mountain and what happened under it, or on it. Then he’d graduated, gotten a job offer, and been swept up in the tragedies all around him for months, still blessedly busy enough to eat, work, sleep, repeat, with no need for thinking or feeling inbetween.

It made him a damn good attorney.

It made him a pretty fucked up person.

Now though…now he had a bit of time, some breathing room…and was completely at a loss as to what to fill it with. Today had been so nice, he had to admit that even as he picked up a pillow and smothered himself with it briefly. He’d been estranged from Napstablook, and whose fault was that really? Theirs? No, they’d just been trying to reconnect with their family. He was the one who’d left in a snit, and they’d been so sweet to him today, like always.

They were a good friend.

And then…there was you.

He rolled over, considered texting you a second time or SOMETHING, then lost his courage and sat the phone back down, irritated at himself. You were decent enough, that was obvious by now. The various reports from monsters at your workplace that had been slowly filling his inbox were full of nothing but positive things about you, even the ones that had left from the harassment. They said you were kind, funny. You had a good Soul, and hadn’t he seen that for himself as he’d healed you? You’d had something shitty happen to you but no one knew what, just that you’d recently starting working there full time and didn’t smile as much as you’d used to.

It was a mystery, and one that he’d worked like a sore tooth for the past few nights. You seemed okay, if not a little quiet if no one was talking to you. So what had happened?

It was with that thought in mind that his phone rang on the dresser. He winced, pulling up the blanket as if he could hide from it, then snatched it up and opened the text, like ripping a bandaid off.

Oh….no. Oh no. You were upset obviously, and how could he possibly say that it hadn’t hurt, that it had felt WONDERFUL, and the most terrifying thing he could ever imagine, uncontrolled and…

He sent back a quick answer, unwilling to give out more than that in this state, lashing his tail once in frustration with himself and this whole damn situation. Why had you even been able to _touch_ his soul? What human could do that?

Apparently you agreed with him, because your next text said as much. Trust Napstablook to stay and try to comfort you, while he ran away.

He sent back some vaguely funny answer, trying to distract you, but you just asked again if you’d hurt him, assured him that you hadn’t seen anything particularly understandable.

With a louder groan, he beat his head back into the pillow a few times, trying to dislodge the thought that if you’d _kept_ touching him, hadn’t pulled away or let him pull away, that the initial defensive dump of ugly memories would have ended, that you’d have suddenly and powerfully been swamped with every feeling and idea and concept that it was to be ‘him’ all at once, that you’d have known him better than anyone in the world knew him now.

But no, he just answer’s back,

_-It felt like nothing in particular. Just a little surprising. But tonight was…fun._

_-We should do it again sometime_

He sends that second text fast, then hides his own face under his arm, wondering what the hell he’s doing, almost _flirting_ with a human.

But…

______- Yeah, we should :)_

_\- Alright buddy_

 

_-_

You grin, bouncing a little in place as you hug your phone to your chest for a moment. He wasn't mad at you! He wanted to hang out!!!

With that thought in mind, you go to bed, struggling to think of an answer before finally just sending

_-Then it's a date! I'm going to bed though, night!_

You can't see his startled, slightly manic grin at the word 'date', even though he's sure you don't mean it  _that_ way. 

Still, it's something to imagine. A human and a monster dating. 

It's not  _entirely_ unheard of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A two for one special! Two chapters in one day, because I'm not gonna leave you with that shitty of a cliffhanger for long. 
> 
> So! Maybe our cat man is a little interested, hm?? At least in being friends, which is certainly better than before.


	10. The Lost Chapter: Felix is a bad driver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

* * *

At four am, Felix jerks awake with a shout from a dream he can’t remember, looking around frantically for someone who isn’t there.

At five, he covers his face with a pillow, hoping maybe to smother himself into sleep.

At six, he shrieks into the mattress, then lays there motionless for a good fifteen minutes.

From seven to eight he picks the finish off his headboard.

At nine, he gets dressed and goes out to find Amiki.

-

Amiki, creator and sole manufacturer of Nice Cream™ The Sweet That’s…Sweet!, lives with his husband in a little house on the outskirts of town, right on the edge of the state park. Felix misses the turn onto his lane, too busy staring at the spot where _her_ fingers had left a tiny print on the dashboard, and swerves with a curse to avoid an oncoming car. He doubles back and turns up, parking on the road and picking his way through the front-yard-now-garden, stepping over bedded-down rows and neat lines of wooden squares. When his foot touches the first step, a little chime over the door jingles merrily, and that’s the only warning he has to freeze before a sweep of light blue magic pulses out across the yard like a shockwave.

“Dude, sorry man! Didn’t know you were coming!” Amiki is at the door, no doubt warned by a perimeter of some sorts, and as Felix goes to his knees with a groan from the sudden heaviness in his Soul, he rushes out to grab his arm.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry…” the Rabbit chants, tracing a finger over Felix’s chest in a circle, until the breath comes back into his lungs with a gasp.

“Fuckin’ _hell ‘Miki…_ ” Felix is wheezing as Amiki tows him inside, settling him down into a chair at the kitchen table and disappearing back the adjacent hall. Looking around the room as he catches his breath, he spots the neat stacks of pamphlets on the table across from him.

**Warning: Dragon Dust made from surface nightshade is DEADLY on first use! Do not purchase under any circumstances!**

**If you need assistance managing your dependence, contact the Royal Health Office today! You can quit, and we can help you!**

Amiki comes back in, dusting one paw off on his shirt and handing Felix a glass of water from the sink. “Sorry, had to reset the watchward. It gets a little aggressive if I don’t go check on it after someone crosses the line.”

Felix takes a drink, nodding, but his gaze stays fixed on the pamphlets. Amiki sits down at the table and pokes him in the arm, his voice gentler. “Hey. You…doing alright lately?” Felix jerks slightly, but tears his eyes away to look at his friend.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Dragon Dust a problem now?” At Amiki’s look, he grimaces. “More than it was before, I mean.”

It's always been a popular drug among monsters, mostly because it's cheap to make and easy to use, but more importantly, because it let a monster access their magic even if they were hopeless or depressed.

The Rabbit sighs, his ears drooping slightly. “Before, it just made you crazy. But when they cut it with surface nightshade…magic doesn’t show the difference unless you know what to look for, and it kills you in one hit. Got a boost in funding from the King the other week, after one of the Salamanders and his girl both fell right in the middle of a human dance club.”

Felix grimaces, playing with the rim of his glass. “That’s…that’s rough, buddy. I’m sorry.” Amiki just sighs, staring at the pamphlets himself, and Felix reaches out a toe to nudge him. “You can’t fix everyone. If people want to change, they’ll come when they’re ready. You know that.”

Amiki looks like he’s ready to argue; he’s in a rare, glum mood today, but Felix changes the subject to what’s been niggling him all night and morning.

“No but hey, I uh, I came to ask you something.” When he looks up, Felix sucks up his courage and asks, “Have you and Sam ever…have YOU ever…touched someone’s Soul?”

Before Amiki can answer, Felix cuts him off. “Not with magic, but like _actually_ touching, like paw-on-Soul full-contact touching.”

Oh no, he can _feel_ his fur rising slightly on his face in embarrassment; it’s an intimate question, even for someone he’s known as long as Amiki, but he _has_ to know.

“Well…yeah. Sam and I have. Why?” Amiki, always freer with this sort of thing than Felix, is giving him a funny look as he asks, and Felix feels the words come up and spill out of him before he can stop them.

“A human chick touched mine.”

Amiki doesn’t say anything, and Felix is afraid to look at him, so he keeps rambling on-

“I don’t know how, I have no idea how she did, but Amiki she got hurt the other day, like _really_ hurt, and I ended up sitting with her for a while after the Queen and I healed her, in case the healing didn’t stick…and dude, she’s _so_ interested in magic, and Souls and shit like that, so I showed her mine, only you know you can barely see my magic against the air, so I wrapped it around my Soul to make it brighter, and she just leaned over and _touched it and-“_

A gentle touch on his arm shuts him up, and oh no, Amiki’s face is far, far too polite for this to be good.

“So…there was a human girl, and she got hurt. So you healed her, and then afterward when you were sitting with her, you showed her your magic and she reached through it to touch your Soul?”

At Felix’s wide eyed nod, Amiki sits back, whistling low under his breath. “Why didn’t you just take her to a human hospital or something?”

“It was a wisp-sting ‘Miki, me and Neal keep them in the office in case we have a problem. One of the Lux family is my receptionist, she’s their keeper. Her and this girl were playing with one when I got back from an appointment with the Queen, and the girl knocked the Queen out of the way when she got too close, only…it went right through her hand man, it was _awful._ ”

Amiki sits there, staring out the window, rubbing the base of one ear thoughtfully. “Did it hurt?”

Felix snorts, gulping the rest of the water. “Buddy of _course it hurt,_ Wisps are fucking nasty, you know th-“

“Did _she_ hurt, when she touched you? Did she hurt you?”

Felix starts a little at this, hesitating for a moment before shaking his head slowly. “Noooooo….no, it didn’t hurt. I just…wasn’t expecting it man, what human can touch a Soul? And it was so fucking…” He trails off, and Amiki nods.

“Intimate?”

“ _Invasive.”_

Amiki glares at him. “Don’t be dramatic. Did she mean you harm?”

When Felix shakes his head slightly, Amiki explains, “Was she…thinking anything nasty about you, or did she hurt you? Did it hurt?”

Understanding dawns on Felix’s face, and he frowns, trying to find the right words. “No…it just felt…weird. Like holding hands with a stranger or something. But it wasn’t _bad_ , just…”

He looks up, to find Amiki smiling at him. “What?”

“Is she pretty?”

“Yeah she is, she’s got this way of smiling at people she knows, and you should’ve seen her in at the hotel she owns. Her father works for her I guess, but anyway, this human came in and started saying all this terrible shit about your cousin Novi, and she got _so mad_ , she fucked this woman up, I’m telling you- _stop smiling like that ‘Miki it isn’t funny!_ ”

The grin stays on Amiki’s face, and Felix glares at him. “She’s cool, I like her. But dude…what if she saw something? Like…”

The grin fades off Amiki’s lips. “Oh…right. Well I mean…do you know her? Maybe you could tell her about your family, like…” At Felixes horrified look, he puts his paws up in surrender. “I’m not saying you have to, just…you sound like you’re friends with her. If you’re worried she saw something bad, talk to her about it. She sounds chill.”

Felix sighs, slumping in the chair. “I don’t know, man. Can’t think of many monsters who’d think it was okay for me to be friends with a human.”

Amiki snorts, thumping a foot on the ground for emphasis. “Who _gives a shit_ what other people think? We never did. And let me tell you dude…it _should_ have hurt. If she somehow actually touched your Soul, it should’ve hurt. It takes a lot of trust to stop that reflex, and if she like bypassed it, AND was able to touch it without having magic of her own…maybe you guys should hang out. Maybe you’re meant to hang out, you know? You could stand a few more friends.”

“Oh wow thanks.” Felix is irritable, tired and wrapped up in thought.

Amiki kicks him. “You know what I mean. Some Souls just go well together. Text her or something. And I mean, if she’s really _that pretty…”_

Felix leaves, Amiki’s laughter following him.

_____________

**Amiki: take her to that holiday party next week. you said you needed someone to go with, go with her.**

Felix pointedly ignores Amiki’s text as he makes his way back to the city.

**Amiki: get her a present, that’s what humans do on christmas.**

Ignoring.

**Amiki: make it something thoughtful too.**

**Amiki: since**

**Amiki: shes**

**Amiki: so**

**Amiki preeeeeetttttttyyyyyyyy**

Felix turns his phone off with a growl, tossing it onto the floor of the passenger’s side, but still…after a moment’s hesitation, he slams on the brakes and turns into a little shop to his right.

-

When he gets home, there’s an email from Neal, something about the housing case. Felix ignores it for now; only so many crises in one day. Dropping into the couch with a sigh, he tosses the little bag he bought back and forth, then pulls out his phone and texts you something inane, a quick hello. Your almost immediate answer, accompanied by a smiley face, makes _him_ smile too.

And so it goes all night, and on and off for the next week, making him laugh at work amidst a sea of horrible injustices, and smile at night before he falls asleep, until finally one night Felix holds the bag to his muzzle, and _breathes_ into it.

The next day is Christmas Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you wouldn't believe the work it took to get this stupid damn chapter reposted.


	11. Silent Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight gore warning here, folks. 
> 
> Edit: There Is a chapter that goes between this one and chapter 9. I just added it, it's the new chapter 10:)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

Christmas Eve…

Who the FUCK does something like this on Christmas Eve?!

You stand there in the hallway of the second floor, slack-jawed like the rest of the staff milling around you, staring at the…the _horror_ nailed up to the wall like some sick art installation.

-

The past few days had been so peaceful, for once. The Vaccarello’s company had issued a public apology just yesterday, after Felix successfully took them to court for criminal harassment, menacing, violating a legal order of restraint, actionable threats…the list went on, and the judge had been a tough old biddy with the law-books memorized, so he recalled to you fondly over text. Lost wages plus interest were paid to all employees who confessed to being threatened, the settlement to your hotel was enough to pay Felix and then some, and Amala was on house arrest with a strict schedule of community service afterwards. It was kept quiet; neither you nor your father wanted the public’s attention, and from Felix’s report, the other family didn’t seem to care either way- Amala’s husband hadn’t even shown up at all.

Legally, Amala got off _very_ well, but you didn’t care. She was taken care of, a few employees had tentatively asked to come back, and all was well. The sprinkles on the sundae was that the health office was being investigated, which you and Felix both took great, malicious joy in.

The few monsters left working with you had even thrown a small party in the breakroom yesterday, and the left-over cake and goodies had bolstered you and the others on third shift (you’d been called back in last minute) into giggles and fun all night long, despite having already worked first shift that morning. The silly mood had clung like champagne fizzies, prompting you to bounce on Doggo from behind when he’d emerged early this morning from the room he stayed in, eliciting a sleepy laugh and hug before he’d trudged down to coax something from the kitchens. Everyone else seemed to be in similar mood as they clocked out for the day; chortling at the first shifters waiting their turn, and generally just having fun.

Until now, barely 7am, when an ear-piercing scream had echoed down the stairway behind the service counter, and all through the lobby.

Doggo beats you up the stairs, a hand on his ever-present baton even as a shimmer spreads over his close-cropped fur, a magical shield or impact-absorber of some kind that he’d showed you once before.

At the top of the stairs he starts to turn into the hall, then suddenly freezes and you almost slam into his back before catching yourself on the railings. Then, in a rush, sparks of his magic leap off him and cling to you, spreading until they form a barely-there sheen of light over your skin. Standing this close, you feel him start to tremble ever so slightly, and with a burst of effort you shove past him and lurch into the hallway.

…

…black?

Black?

 

**E̴̵͖̘͔̤ͮͬ͢S͖̹̜͕̮̙̣̽ͅT̵͍͙̎ͤͤ̕E͍̺͓̱͔͂ͮͩͫͪ̇̄ͤR̪̹̳̺̯̪̭̂̈́̊͛͛̂͟͠Ȇ̛̻̤̀͋̋̿ͩ͋̄͠M̴̫̩͌ͬ̍͋͛̆͒ͭ̆ ̷̭͕͈͉̟̥̮ͣ̓̅̆́ͤ͊Ṁ̶̦͗̇͠O̢̝̗͉̅ͮ̔ͩ̇͗̆ͯ͋Ř̰͇̱̣͉̠̘̣͛̄̿ͭͅDͣ͑̅̍҉̢̘̟̕Ė͚̰͕͍͕ͥ̃ͪ͆ͥ̕͝M̵̟̝̘̻ͦ̒̍̈́͘͜ ̾̇͐͒͑͏̭͖̝̺A̿ͦ͐ͮ͢҉̯̩͈̬͔̯̤̟͚ ̵̧̳͕̣ͤ̈́C̴̱̜̣̼̹̀ͥ͆ͪ͐ͫ͌̓͟͞A̰͈̝̰͈̤̜̱̥̓̐ͭ̐̆̑͝É͆ͯ͏̷̷͎̯̹͍̖̙̲N̻̰̼̣̜̙ͤ̀ͣ̆̌̉̈͟A̙̖̝̯͈͈ͭ̌͛́̂̎Ŗ̯̩͑ͯ̽̅͡E̵̛̪͇̙͓̰̹̍͗T͎͙͖̳̾ͪͥ̎̒̈͟͡ ̵̙̯͓̦͔͕̳͙̅́̈ͥ͂͐C̝͍ͭ͆̏̈́R̺͖͕̱̃̽̀͂Ḙ̡͙ͩ͑͛̏̈X̴̯̥̙̲͍̼͋̈́̐̇ͅ**

 

BlackBlaCKBLACK, sick and wrong, a feeling of rot and unfocused malice floats around you, and you reel back from it in blind fear. Then, hard and warm, something catches you from behind and keeps you from falling back onto the tile floor. Dimly you hear shouting and the pounding of feet up the staircase, and with a start, you struggle madly with whatever’s gripping you.

“Easy, hey! It’s me!”

You whirl, gasping, to come face to face with a thoroughly-spooked and panting Doggo, his magic flickering over his sweatpants and shirt as it withdraws from your skin. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I don’t…I don’t know what came over me, I…”

Doggo squints at you then, nostrils flaring, and a funny look comes into his eye. Faintly, you feel the strangest sensation of…of air rifling through your chest, like Pudding sniffing your palm, but _inside_ you rather than on your skin. You shiver, twisting away slightly, but the feeling ends and the world barges back in around the two of you.

-

There was blood, or what looked like blood, smeared and splattered across the wall of the little sitting area in the hall. Sloppily written in some black, tarry-looking substance, was something that looked faintly like butchered latin, the letters huge and horrible against the stark white wall.

‘ESTEREM MORDEM A CAENARET CREX’

But below it…oh god, below it was a black dog. You thought it was a dog, though it certainly showed little resemblance now, the way it was twisted and nailed to the pretty wall paper. Wall paper that you’d picked for this floor years ago at your father’s insistence, when life was happier and dreams were close to hand.

Now it was ruined, slashed and smeared, an almost fifteen-foot long swath of dried muck and strange symbols, crowned with that poor dog and the horrible looking phase.

"Everyone, at least five feet back, you understand me? Don't touch it, don't even  _breathe_ too close to it!" As Doggo shouts, he flicks his paw, and a line of light flows away from him to hover mid-air, an obvious barrier to overly-curious onlookers. When he steps back and calls the police, his voice clipped and terse, and you wander over bleakly to the small crowd gathered around a fainted housekeeper, apparently the woman who had screamed out. By the time she's awake (and hysterical), Doggo is taking pictures of the whole bloody scene with his phone while simultaneously talking to someone.

“…no power to it, not since magic was bound up in the mountain, but it looks gnarly as hell. You know this isn’t my forte, could you two come take a look? Just to be sure, you know? It has no target, but it still feels awful, and I don't know for sure if it wouldn't effect monsters, I threw a veil up over myself and the boss when we found it. It itches her too.”

 You step closer as you wait for him to finish, wanting to be close to someone you know. The feeling in the hall has you spooked, and your ears still dimly ring with the roaring _sickness_ you’d felt just minutes ago, making you lag against a door frame with dizziness. Doggo hangs up, then copies you until you’re both leaning against the far wall, shoulders pressed together and staring up the hall at the scene. 

“My cousin and her husband are on their way. This here-” he gestures to the hall “-is an ugly, half-assed attempt at human magic. No, don't stare at me like that, you know humans used to do magic. It's a curse, actually, or at least it feels like one." He sighs. Now if a human does magic like this, which you’ll be happy to know it WAS a human, then there’s very little chance of it, oh…finding a target. But it still feels gross to be around, and my cousins can fix that, so I called them.”

You think for a moment, frowning. “Good idea. But…Doggo, I thought humans couldn’t do magic. Like at all, not even ‘gross feelings’.”

He tracks the crowd with his eyes, thinking for a moment. “Humans can’t do…. _active_ magic, like you can’t hold your hand out and make something catch on fire. But some humans on their own have this sort of _passive_ magic, like that whole ‘what you think is what you achieve’ type thing. They can work subtle magic with intention, by shaping magic from the environment. And a very few humans DID have magic like monsters, but they died a long time ago.”

With a sigh, he wriggles down until he’s sitting against the wall, and pats the floor invitingly.

“Monsters…monsters are the _source_ of magic, of potential for change, just like humans are the source of ‘growth’, of making more of something or something new. The two go together, you know? Change and Growth make up the universe. So it stands to reason that humans and monsters would have a tiny bit of each other, but not enough when they’re apart for a long time, yeah? That’s why monsters were getting sicker and sicker, and why your world was getting shittier and shittier.”

You sink down next to him, trying to process this. “So…when we locked the monsters away, we locked away _almost_ all the magic. But we still had a little, and now that monsters are free again, some of us can use it, and apparently someone used some here and that’s why it feels so godawful?” It sounds confusing outside your own mind too; you're not sure what you just said made sense.

He nods, his ears going flat to his skull for a moment, his lips peeling back in a silent snarl. “Whoever did this…they did their research, but I don't think they were one of the humans that can use magic. If they _had_ had magic, real magic…this would’ve drawn monsters to it, and killed them. Wrenched their souls out like a black hole and stored them like a battery. Dogeressa said so. It would have taken a lot of power to even set up.”

You scoot closer, trying to get away from that ugly thing at the end of the hall, and he shifts until his leg presses against you, still faintly glimmering. Guiltily, you realize that you'd hardly ever bothered to get to know Doggo, since he'd been hired at the same time you'd come back from college. He's actually really nice, and you make a promise to yourself to talk to him more. “There’s still books on this kind of stuff. A friend of mine in college collected old occult books…" 

Then the police show up, and you’re too distracted to notice Doggo as he watches you intently, staring almost _through_ you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Doggo. He seems chill.
> 
> Real life occurence chapter is based off of- without giving detail that would let my exact hotel be defined, let me just say that where I work, we honest to god once TRULY found the very large remains of some very ugly witchcraft in a room. Hazmat had to come, police were called...the whole nine yards.


	12. Holy Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

After arriving from the dignitaries’ office, Dogamy and Dogaressa are brisk and thorough, directing cleaning staff on what to do when they’re finished and giving a grim report to the police on the nature of the vandal’s intentions. Once the police leave, it’s Dogaressa who actually does the ‘unmagicing’ as Doggo calls it, tracking back and forth in front of the little lobby until she finally locates what apparently is a weak thread in the aimless magic’s weaving. She reaches out and neatly plucks something invisible from the air with her claws, and even the humans in the hall visibly relax as the malignance in the air vanishes with an unheard ‘pop!’.

Making a motion as if rolling up a ball of yarn, she retraces her earlier steps, her partner Dogamy waiting nearby with a mixing bowl of tap water from the kitchen. You’d asked him shyly if he needed anything fancier, but he’d just smiled and said the cheap old bowl was fine, that you’d probably want to throw it out afterwards anyway. After noticIng that neither Dogaressa nor Dogamy actually met your eye when they spoke to you, you’d quietly ask Doggo if everything is alright.

He’d waves off your concern with a yawn. “Our kind of monster favors scent over sight as we form. I can see better than most of our family ever could, but Dogamy and Dogaressa can’t see at all. We had a cousin who could see perfectly like a human, but no color. Just shades of gray, he had the best eyes of any of us.”

Noticing the past-tense, you frown. “Is he…still around?” Doggo shrugs, see-sawing his paw. “Kinda. They’re Endogeny now.”

Then Dogamy calls out for Doggo, and you’re left wondering what an ‘Endogeny’ is as he walks over to the other two. Dogaressa, with a curled lip, holds something with the very tips of her claws as if it were slimy or gross, only it doesn’t physically look like she has anything between her paws. But Doggo shys back when she comes near him, and Dogamy snarls his lip up when quickly, she pulls her paws apart above the aluminum bowl of water he holds.

A cry sticks in your throat as, like something in a horror movie, a black steam rises up off the bowl and writhes in the air. Then someone jostles you from behind,making you blink...and it’s just a plain bowl of water again. You follow, shivering, as Dogamy carefully carries it downstairs and out the back to the garden terrace, and dumps it along the brick wall where some green grass still lingers, protected from the snow. As he does so, he murmurs something under his breath, and the grass turns dead and crispy in a perfect, spreading circle.  Dogaressa had explained that this would happen, and had cautioned you to leave your staff inside to start clean up, but...it was one thing to just hear something, and another to watch as a patch of vibrant, living grass rotted in the space of a few seconds.

“Nothing will ever grow there again, I don’t think.” Doggo’s voice is quiet in your ear, and you jump slightly at how close he’d gotten. But he’s intent on Dogamy, his black and white fur ruffling slightly in the wind as the circle slowly grows and grows at his cousin’s feet.  This close, you can see the corded muscle in his arms as he reaches into his pants pocket, stops, makes a face, then sighs and pulls his hand back out to cross his arms in the chilly morning light. When he catches you watching, he grins. “Got my eye on a lady in town, but she told me to stop with the, uh…’dog treats’ before she’d do more than get dinner with me.”

You gasp, dramatically throwing a hand up to your mouth. “Doggo, you hound! Who is it, is she a Monster or a human?!”

He scuffs the ground with his foot, blushing slightly to your delight. “She’s human, she uh…she works at this little café on the square in town. I just met her last week, I ordered takeout there all the time, but I sat down and she was my waitress, and…”

He looks off into the distance, smiling softly. “She’s really sweet, and she rescues surface dogs too. But she _really_ doesn’t like smoking, so I’m trying to um, kick the habit as it were.”

You nod, watching as Dogamy and Dogaressa talk softly together over the dead grass. “Yeah. Felix smokes.”

Doggo hums in his chest, looking at you sidelong. “On first names with the inheritor of the Constellation family, eh?”

You stare at him blankly, and he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you know? Hoo boy. Even before the war, Lawyerpants’ family was a big deal. Old, extensive, and in direct service to the Royal Family. They’re even distantly related.” He snorts at the stunned expression on your face, patting you on the shoulder. “Calm down- stars above, you look horrified. Most of family died off after the war, and once the King started collecting souls, their Queen pulled the rest of them from the service of the Royal family in defiance. It’s mostly just tradition now, that he has a title and things like that. I mean, the kid worked for Mettaton, that’s not exactly _high class._ ”

You make a little noise of horror in the back of your throat. “No Doggo, you don’t get it, like…I _yelled_ at him. And almost died on him, you remember me telling you about that yesterday? Yeah I’d appreciate it if next time you’d tell me if I fainted on someone who’s practically monster royalty! Oh god, what must he think, oh nooooooo…”

He’s laughing as you peeter off into mutters, watching as Dogamy and Dogaressa sit the upended bowl down in the middle of the circle of dead grass and start back toward you.

“Nothing will probably grow there for a while, but the magic in the growing grass neutralized the intention of the curse. You’re all good.”

Thanking them profusely and trying again to offer them payment in some kind, you trail behind the three dogs as they make their way back inside. Dogaressa politely but firmly refuses you a final time, then she and Dogamy leave to go back to the King, leaving you to say your goodbyes and head out yourself around noon, almost 27 hours since you’d last slept. Doggo asks what you’re doing for the human holidays, but you make up some lie about going to dinner with friends. No need to make him worry.

Pulling a double-crack shift combined with the morning’s stress leaves you worn out and dispirited once you’re away from everyone, and you can’t even bring yourself to enjoy the Christmas decorations that flash by your car as you drive home. It’s all just a reminder that, once again, you’ll be spending Christmas alone.

When you’d left work, you’d texted your dad hopefully, but got the same cheerful answer as every other year.

**Sorry sweetie, but I’ll be with Rosey this year. She’s still so young, I don’t want her to feel left out. Thank you for understanding!**

But you don’t feel understanding, not when this happens every holiday.

It begins to snow gently as you pull into your spot, and the strange, gauzy mood that had crept over you lifts a little, leaving you to watch as perfect white flakes drift down around you, making a new layer on the just-thawed ground. Then, with a sigh, you drag yourself up to your apartment.

Hopefully, you knock on Napstablook’s door, but they still aren’t home. They had some event they’d left for a few days back, and you’ve only sparsely heard from them since.

At least your kitty loves you. Pudding purrs and purrs as you step through the door, twining around your ankles as you sit your purse down and throw your coat haphazardly over the dining room table. Night before last, you’d made a real effort to decorate, and it does make your apartment look a little cozier. You might even keep the Christmas lights around the window up after the season is over; they look nice against the dark curtains.

As you make yourself lunch, some random holiday movie playing in the background, your phone buzzes.

_Felix- Rua just got a call from the receptionist at the king’s office, she’s her sister_

_Felix- Dogaressa had to come in to the hotel for a CURSE?!_

You groan, leaning on the countertop. Of course he’d find out about it.

_You- It’s taken care of, just some asshole that found some creepy old book and wanted to experiment. Doggo told ME something interesting about YOU_

_Felix- ?_

_You- Why didn’t you ever tell me you were like…practically ROYALTY??? Oh my god, I passed out on you :/_

_Felix- oh THAT, no bud hey no it’s not like that. My families just really big and we have some weird magic that most other monsters don’t have. It’s not really a big deal anymore, it was a long time ago that it mattered._

_Felix- I’m glad I was there though, the queen has healing magic, but it’s not like mine._

_You- Dumb question I guess, but…can humans learn magic like that? Like what you did?_

_Felix- Kind of? I don’t know if humans still can, but they used to be able to sorta give part of their own power over to another person, like a transfusion of magic. But that was a long time ago, I just read it somewhere._

_You- Oh okay. Just wondered. That would be amazing:) Are you doing anything for christmas?_

_Felix- Not really. A friend of mine, Shyren, is singing at one of those human places…_

_Felix- Churches! Shyren is singing in at a church, and I was going to go see her maybe._

_You- Oh really? Where? I haven’t been to a cantata for a long time._

_Felix- You interested? I can take you, it’s at 8 tonight._

_You- Oh no that’s okay, my apartment is way out of the way for you. Just tell me where?_

_Felix- It’s no bother, really. I’ll pick you up, like 7:15? The address is-_

You cover a smile with your hands as he texts you the address, bouncing a little in place. A Christmas cantata! You haven’t been to one, haven’t been to _any_ music thing since…

Since college.

But this could be fun, and it’s something to do on Christmas, plus it’s late enough that you can sleep for a little while before you have to get ready.

Maybe it won’t be such a bad Christmas.

_________

When you wake up, about an hour before Felix is supposed to get there, your phone is flashing with two new messages. One is from Napstablook with an early ‘Happy Christmas!’, and the other from Novi with a ‘tell me about the Contata after?’.

God, you wish you could get into the monster gossip grapevine. How Novi found out you were going, you'd never know.

You shower quickly and brush your teeth while blowing your hair out a little, do your face, and dig through your closet for something nice to wear. Trying to decide between a sparkling black dress and a royal blue one, you _just_ settle on the royal blue one when…

**Ding!**

The doorbell rings.

You huff out an exasperated sigh at men that show up early, and shout, “Come in, I’m getting ready!”

You hear Felix’s muffled reply, and quickly put the dress on. A pair of godforsaken thigh-high hose complete the outfit, and with a final check in the mirror, you grab your purse, slip on your shoes, and open your bedroom door.

Felix, whose back is to you as he watches Pudding tug your coat off the dining room table, turns, and then a shy smile comes over his face when he looks you over. You cover your nerves with a laugh, flipping your hair and asking, “How do I clean up?”

“Pretty well,” he murmurs, then coughs and gestures to the door. “We should go though, Shyren is trying to save us seats but she said a lot of people come to this.”

You nod, walking past him to reclaim your coat from your awful cat. When you brush by him, his cologne lightly drifts by you- a sweet citrus scent overlaid with something softly spicy, like hot cider. Tugging your black coat away from Pudding, you groan, “Oh Pudds no, look! Puddy hairs all over my coat, bad!”

With a huff of a laugh, Felix walks over and holds his hand out. “Here.”

You hand your coat to him, curious. He closes his eyes for a moment, and suddenly, all the hair floats down from your coat to the floor as tiny sparks of purple dance over the fabric. You both step back to avoid them, and you can’t help the smile that comes over your face.

You clap as he takes a mock bow, laughing as he explains, “It’s useful, especially since I’m just as bad on my own clothing.”

Before you can reach out to take it, he shakes your coat out then holds it out for you. Hesitating for a moment, because you’ve never had anyone do this for you, you slide your arm in and turn, murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he turns with you to slide it up your other arm. Then in a move you’d have sworn to god that no dude ever did in real life before now, he folds your collar back and slides the soft pads of his paw over your neck, untucking your hair to let it fall gently back down over your coat before stepping back with a noise of satisfaction.

Then, patting Pudding on the head as she sits on the table watching you both, he opens the door and looks at you expectantly, making you blink before you step out before him into the hall.

-

When you first see Felix’s car, you just _know_ your jaw dropped a little.

“OhmyGOD you have a CORVETTE!”

You practically fall down the outside stairs in your hurry to get closer, bouncing up and down in your excitement to _actually ride in a Corvette._ How did you not know he had a Corvette??

Too distracted by oohing and aahing over his car, you don’t see as Felix laughs quietly, glancing to the side then back at you as you run your fingers over the hood of the car. His gaze follows your fingertips as they doodle nonsense patterns over the paint, then trails up your arm and settles on your face in profile as you call something back to him, laughing.

When he opens the door for you, you actually squeak in excitement before getting in, a tiny noise of discomfort in your throat at the coldness of the leather seat.

“Sorry, sorry…” he mutters, closing his door and starting the engine, turning the heat up. As he pulls out into the busy street, a slight squeaking noise behind the dashboard cuts through the engine’s purr. You distantly recognize the sound, and lean forward slightly.

“Sounds like you’ve got a belt wearing out in there…” you murmur, trying to hear where its coming from.

Felix gives you a funny look. “You know cars? I just bought this one because I liked it, before Monster money got boycotted.”

You snort, thinking that _yes it would be very easy to buy a car with money made from solid gold._ “A little, I had some friends back in college that did cars. I learned some from them, and then I taught myself more when mine started to go bad.” You smooth a hand down the inside paneling. “This is really, really nice Felix…thanks.”

Peeking at him from the corner of your eye, you hide a smile when an ear flicks toward you and he flexes his claws on the steering wheel, staring pointedly ahead to hide what you’re sure is an embarrassed face. _‘Oh no, he’s shy….’_

Evilly, you stare out the window and say in a sing-song voice, “But I guess since you’re _royalty_ -“

“-Oh shove it!”

He mock-glares at you as you giggle, turning to watch out the window as he pulls into a line of cars waiting to get into the big cathedral. It’s beautifully decorated, and there’s carolers outside entertaining the people waiting to get a parking space.

When you put the window down, their voices fill the air, and you’re too busy watching them to notice _Felix_ watching _you._

___________

The concert is beautiful, with the big old church all done up in greens- the choir matching in white, while Shyren takes the soloist’s place of honor in a lovely sparkling gown of ever-changing shades of blue. For a moment it makes you so sad and envious you could choke on it, but you force down the ugly feeling and just listen to the orchestra and singers. It’s hard to stay quiet, when they invite the audience to join in on various carols between the big pieces, but you still can’t bring yourself to sing much, even after a whole year since _It_ happened. Instead, you hum along, or just listen to the crowds of people in the pews and isles around you. There’s Monsters and humans mixed through the choir and crowd, and the concert even features some Monster songs for this time of year that you see Felix mouth the words along to. With a near-isle seat on the righthand side, you’re right in the sweet spot for the sound, and it swells around you with every note. Shyren is incredible, truly, and you’re so, so grateful for Felix having brought you.

You pull him to his feet on the first notes of the Hallelujah chorus, ignoring his bemused look with a whisper-shouted, “It’s tradition!”. By the time it ends he’s astonished and glowing, whispering rapid-fire questions to you on the writer, the piece itself, what it’s from…you’re so surprised by a guy actually being interested in something like this that he coaxes some real answers out of you. His reaction when you quietly explain you’d gone to college for Vocal performance is one of delighted surprise, though it quickly fades to bleakness when you wave off his questions with, “Something bad happened, I…I had to leave. I don’t sing much anymore.”

He stares at you a moment, then when the final song begins, the Ode to Joy with the audience invited to join in at the end, he glances away then looks back in a hurry, whispering, “Sing this with me. I’ve never heard you, but it’s a Monster song too.”

He looks so hopeful, so earnest, that you don’t even have time to wonder at Monsters having this same song, or to be nervous of singing after so long a time- after all, who here knows you, or would recognize your voice? Just this once, you'll do it for Felix as a thank you. The orchestra swells and swirls around the room, the music building and building, and when the audience is brought in on the final Human verse, you take a breath…

**Mortals, join the happy chorus! Which the morning stars began;**

**Father love is reigning o’er us, brother love binds man to man!**

**Ever singing, march we onward, victors in the midst of strife!**

**Joyful music leads us Sunward in the triumph song of life!**

As strong as old times, the same strength that was ridiculed in highschool and admired in college, your voice carries out clear even in the crowd. It’s a catharsis, not only because you’re safe here to do something you once loved so much, but to your _astonishment_ Felix comes in with a clear, strong Tenor in a language you don’t know, a rising harmony to your Soprano that has the people near you turning with smiles, listening. It’s just one verse but you’re breathless by the end of it, and when the song ends with thunderous applause, you throw your arms around Felix’s neck with a half-laughing, half-sobbing “Thank you, thankyouthankyou thank you!”

Laughing himself, he hugs you back tentatively, then breaks away when Shyren herself taps you on the shoulder. She’s so soft spoken, it’s incredible compared to her singing, that you have to lean in to hear her.

“You are beautiful! So good! Your name?” You answer her, smiling as she struggles to piece together the English, and exclaim, “You’re amazing too! But thank you!” She opens her mouth as if to say more, but someone calls her from across the room, and she disappears with an apologetic smile.

“You really _are_ amazing.” Felix says quietly behind you, smiling gently when you turn back. “I mean, I’m just really impressed, I…”

He smoothes the ruff of fur that puffs out over his collar, a nervous gesture you’ve picked up on by now. You wiggle your eyebrows at him, pushing at him gently. “You’re pretty good there too, mister lawyer! Why didn’t you ever go to be a singer?”

He sighs, something dark coming over his face, and his tail lashes around him once to knock against the pew’s seat. “I tried something like it, it didn’t ah…it didn’t go well. This pays the bills better.”

He says the last part in an obvious attempt to change the subject, but you remember what Napstablook said about Mettaton and don’t push it further.

-

The whole ride home, the two of you sing along terribly to the carols on the radio, pulling off occasionally to admire shops that have particularly nice decorations up in the calm night. It’s the slowest, sweetest night out you’ve had in a long time, maybe ever, and by the time the two of you reach your apartment building, you’re a little sad that it has to end despite the warmth in your Soul.

He walks you up to your door, suddenly nervous, and you wonder if maybe he’s feeling the loss of the night’s magic already too. But at your door, when you turn to thank him, he stops you with a paw up in the air.

“Hey, buddy, er…hey, I um…” He turns and stares down the hall for a moment, then looks back at you, his pupils huge in the darkish space. “I... A while ago, I had a good line of people do some pretty shitty stuff to me, and it messed me up for a while. I didn't really want to get close to anyone. But…you’re really nice, and not just fake nice either, and pretty, and I…”

It sounds rehearsed, like he's been practicing this little speech for you, and the thought brings a flush to your face. You feel like you can’t breathe, your whole being straining toward this tiny, insignificant moment in time, because you _know_ what he's working up to, can feel it in your belly as it drops out. When he goes silent without finishing his sentence, staring at his shoes, you suck up every last drop of courage in your body and ask him the words he can't seem to get out -

“Do you want to go to lunch sometime?”

-at the same time that he suddenly rushes out-

“I’dreallyliketotakeyououtsometimemaybe”

You stand there, staring at each other for a moment, before you break first with a shakey laugh, stepping toward him a little bit. He chuckles too, looking relieved, reaching out for a moment and running a feather’s touch of a pawpad down your shoulder, as if testing to see if some invisible barrier is down between the two of you.

“It’ll be weird,” he warns, warm golden eyes dancing in the dim light. “I’m not exactly a uh, a human guy.”

You let your eyes fall over his face, angular and graceful with that foreign animal-but-not look that so many Monsters have…down over his chest, his arms, and finally down to the half hand, half paw that rests on your shoulder. Gently, you lay yours over it, and you feel him instinctively flex his claws out ever so slightly, barely brushing your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. From the way his expression shifts slightly, you wonder if he felt it.

“I think…maybe we’ll manage. I’m not exactly a Monster either, and I don't have fur, so...”

His answering grin is enough to light up the whole hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Christmas:)
> 
> [Here](http://kenket.deviantart.com/art/Grillby-s-565149691) is an amazing, amazing piece of art that matches EXACTLY what I picture Doggo looking like.
> 
> [And here](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com/post/141067199046/christmas-concert-playlist) is the Christmas Concert playlist, so you can listen to nerdy choral music with me:)


	13. All is calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) and talk sad ghosts with me.

Oh god.

It’s been so long- so _so_ long, and you’re not sure how this works anymore, not sure what you’re expected to do next, and it’s terrifying in a wonderful way as Felix stands there, his paw resting gently on your shoulder, one toe slightly under the edge of your dresses neckline.

A moment ago, he’d been laughing softly at your slight self-disparagement, but now he looks just as nervous as you feel, his arm tensing for a moment as if to pull his paw out from under your hand.

From what little you’ve learned about monsters, mostly from talking to Napstablook, you know they don’t recover well from heartbreak or betrayal. Their souls are literally made of hope, their bodies formed from earth and magic; the _intention_ to hurt injures them like a punch or a gunshot injures a human. You could accidentally push one down a flight of stairs and they’d probably recover, but a pinch done in malice could spread through them like infection.

You see it on Felix’s face, you think, as the brightness of his laughing eyes dims and he opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it and pulls away, pulling out from under your hand.

Funnily enough, even as he falls deeper into nerves and shutters himself away, you feel a giddy, fatalistic optimism come over you. Here’s a chance, a desperate, _amazing_ chance to be close to someone after so long, someone you know and care about…and you’re hesitating to the point that they pull away.

….no.

No.

At the sound of your quiet laugh, he looks at you oddly for a moment, before raising an eyebrow and trying a smile in solidarity, but you wave his attempt off. “No, no it’s not…I’m laughing at myself. I’m being so _stupid_ about this.” You step forward, and, praying to God he doesn’t move away, gently wrap your arms around him in a hug, laying your head on his chest.

For a blood-chilling, stomach-dropping moment he freezes, then…with a deep, relieved sigh, he steps closer and brings his arms up around you, pulling you closer.

“I’m being stupid too…” he murmurs, turning his face into your hair. You hum a distracted agreement, listening in awe as his voice rumbles in his chest, a counter point to a…a _thrumming_ , like a heartbeat only deeper and faster, a pulse rather than a rhythm, that you swear you can hear faintly even after you tilt your head up to look at him shyly.

“Be…be patient with me, okay? I had some, um…some bad stuff happen to me with the last guy I was with, and…” you peter off, burying your face in his chest for a moment.

He stills, his hold on you tightening slightly. “Not to pull the uh, the overbearing-boyfriend move, but…do I need to find him?” When you look back up at him, he _almost_ looks like he’s kidding, except that there’s the slightest ring of purple glowing around his pupils, like a halo within the gold of his irises.

You shake your head, a sigh escaping you. “No, he’s gone. Just a piece of shit.” You stare as, slowly, the light fades from his pupils, until he gives you a funny look.

“See something you like?” he teases, and you roll your eyes.

“Well yeah, but…magic is just, it’s so _exciting._ It’s like every dream I ever had when I was little, only it’s real and just… you have really nice eyes.” You huff out a happy breath even as he puffs up at little at the compliment.

Just then, you hear arguing voices coming up the stairs, and Felix stiffens in your arms. “Oh no…no fucking way” he mutters, then looks at you. “Please, _please_ hide me from him!”

He looks so concerned that you do, opening your door and pulling him into the apartment, shutting the door just as…

“Blooky, plea-“

“- _No_ Mettaton.”

“Oh shit…” Felix mutters into your ear, both of you straining against the thin door to hear everything.

Heavy, angry footsteps pass you in the hall, followed by lighter, faster ones, like the second person was trying to catch up to the other.

“Blooky, Blooky I _know_ you’re mad at me, and I was terrible! I admit it, I was terrible to you, but you can’t just keep ignoring your own family like this, I miss…”

Mettaton, because it _must_ be Mettaton, trails off into silence. The air from the hallway is suddenly physically chilled as it seeps under your door, nothing like it had been moments before, and there’s a startling heaviness in the air. Felix shifts beside you anxiously. Outside, you hear the closer person, Mettaton, take a step back, backing away from Napstablook.

 _“How do you even know we’re related, Mettaton?_ You don’t even know h-how old you are, I don’t even know how old _I am_ , it could just all be some m-made up comfort for a bunch of _old, dead ghosts._ ”

There’s a nastiness in Nastablook’s voice, almost completely devoid of their usual stutter, that sets you aback a little. You and Felix both share a look; you know damn well you shouldn’t be listening to this, but…

“And you _left me_ Mettaton, you left me alone the m-moment we hit sunlight, to go run off and be famous, and weeks later, oh by the way _Blooky_ , you can come perform with me too! That’s all I ever was to you, since the Mountain…an after t-thought, someone useful…well I’m done! I have g-good friends now, and a job that I like, and p-people that care about me _more than when it’s convenient for them!_ ”

The chill in the air spikes, making you gasp and Felix jump slightly…then fades.

“I can’t do this anymore, Mettaton.” Napstablook sounds so, so tired. “I’m glad you’re treating people better, but…∞ _t’rayalakali∞,_ I’m done. Go be with your new friends. That girl needs you more than I do, go back…and be famous for her instead.”

There’s a silence, then a closing door…almost a minute goes by before, slowly, Mettaton walks away and down the staircase.

“Oh man…” Felix whispers, his eyes wide. “Oh shit...” He sits back on his heels, looking shocked. “That was…wow.”

You nod, unable to answer for a moment. Finally, Felix stirs and gets to his feet with a groan. He holds a hand down for you and pulls you up, steadying you with an arm around your waist when you wobble on your heels for a moment.

“Easy…” he mutters, only half-paying attention to you as he stares into space. He shakes his head, looking bleak. “Man, I never…I _never_ thought Napstablook would say no to Mettaton. Never.”

You quietly kick your heels off as Felix goes on. “I thought…now that Mettaton’s learning to be decent, that Napstablook would go back like always, but…” He sighs heavily. “Guess not.”

Felix plays his cards so close to his chest, you’re eager to keep him talking. You lead him over to the couch, then go out, dropping your coat and grabbing two bottles of water. You hand him one, and he takes it with a murmur of thanks.

“So…Mettaton is a little different now?” you prompt gently. He snorts and takes a drink, but there’s no real heat to it.

“I guess so. People learn, even the _worst_ people. And Mettaton’s getting close to this human girl on the east side of town, near the coast. She’s been having trouble, you’ve heard about her?”

You nod, remembering what you’ve seen on the news. He goes on. “Well apparently, she rings all Mettaton’s ‘Napstablook’ bells, because he’s on her like a mother hen. Still…I saw him this morning, that’s where I was actually, and…he _is_ different. Her, and Alphys and Undyne…they’re having a good effect on him.”

He shrugs as you sit down next to him, having turned out the kitchen light so it wasn’t so bright inside. “I dunno.” He fiddles with his cufflinks, trying to get the one on his right wrist off with little success until finally he holds it out to you with a begging expression. Grinning, you pop it off, then hold it back from him when he reaches for it.

“Let me see it!” you say with a laugh, turning the little silver circlet over in your hand. It’s plain silver, with a pattern etched within a circle for a design. The pattern looks vaguely familiar, you think to yourself, but you can’t place where you’ve seen it…

“It’s my family crest.” When you look at him, he points at the cufflink. “A modified delta crest in a distaff border, to signify the royal line continues in my mother’s side.”

Seeing your eyes widen, he shakes his head and throws up a hand. “No _please_ don’t start that again, it’s not…it’s all symbolic now. They were a gift from the Queen when I graduated, she said she was proud of me, and I just…I like them.” He trails off looking embarrassed, and it’s enough to mollify you.

You hand him back the little cufflink, slipping it into his paw. “You can be proud! You’ve worked really hard to get where you are in life!”

He slips it into his pocket, smiling. “Well…thanks.” He looks down at his lap, then back up at you as the little clock next to your TV chimes midnight. “Hey, so…what was that today, at the concert?”

Oh god.

You stare at the floor, voice monotone as you tell the story that you _know_ will convince him you’re not worth it. But it’s late, and you’re tired, and your guard is down after such a good night, and he’s _so_ kind that you can’t help the words as they tumble out of you.

“In college, when I went for um…for performance, I was really close to graduating. I was going to go to a conservatory next, but…see, only so many people could go. So a lot of people _really_ wanted to be in my position.”

Felix nods, scooting a little closer on the couch, but you don’t see it. Your eyes are glued to the carpet as, for the first time, you tell a potential boyfriend the story of your biggest past fuck'up.

“I met this guy, and we started getting pretty serious. Until one day, I find out he’s been doing heroin, it’s an illegal drug humans do sometimes, and it’s _really_ bad…he promises to quit, but he never does, and it’s this ongoing problem that just gets worse and worse, you know? Then a...a month before my senior recital, I walk in to our apartment to find him and some random girl fucking each other in the living room, high off their asses. I…yelled at him, told him to get out…and it just turned into a fight I guess. He, um...he broke my hand.”

You hold up your hand for emphasis, where the fingers haven’t quite worked right since. “Pushed me, then used the base of a lamp that fell down to smash my hand, said I deserved it for being such a ‘frigid bitch’, that he had to go find some other girl because I didn’t put out enough, go ahead and play the obnoxious fucking piano now…”

You cut yourself off before you can spit any more of the ugly insults you remember.

“He…he tried to really hurt me then, but my neighbor called the police when she heard the yelling, and they stopped him before he got too far…he went to jail, but…I couldn’t do the recital. I just couldn’t. I dropped out.”

Your voice is going slightly wobbly, and you swallow hard before you meet his eyes. “So…yeah. I can’t play the piano anymore, and I just…don’t feel like singing much now.”

Felix reaches for you, hesitates, then, broadcasting his movements like he’s trying to calm a wild animal, gently puts an arm around you and pulls you to him. There, resting against his chest, you sigh and close your eyes for a moment. You’ve cried all the tears you’ve ever wanted to cry for that lost dream, but…it feels good to have someone care, to have someone treat you gently like this.

“I am _so_ sorry” he whispers into your hair, his other arm coming up to wrap around you protectively. “If I could find him, I’d do more than put him in jail.”

You laugh a little, shaking your head against the fabric of his shirt. “No, you’re an attorney…you know you can’t just do that. Who knows where he is, he ran when he got out on parole. It's the last I heard of him”

There’s a surprising heat to his voice when he rumbles, “I don’t care.” His paws flex against you and he pulls you closer, almost into his lap. “Who would _do that_ to a woman, that’s…that’s sick. That’s worse than sick. I know people do it, Stars do I know, but…they should be put down like animals.”

He leans over, resting his forehead against your hair for a moment, before gently turning his head to brush the softness of his cheek over yours. While you recognize the gesture of affection from Pudding, there’s something oddly touching and intimate about it, coming from Felix. Without thinking, you reach up and run your nails gently through the ruff at the base of his neck, then smooth the backs of your fingertips along his cheek, before sloppily mimicking his motion as best you can, butting up slightly under his chin and catching his eye with yours with a small smile. “I….thank you.” You’re a little lost for words; when was the last time you heard anyone speak with that kind of strictness, much less in defense of you?

And…

And now you’re close, oh you’re so close to each other, and you run your tongue along your lower lip nervously, watching as his eyes track the movement, and…

When he brushes his lips against yours, so gently it’s barely a feather’s touch, your heart flutters. The second time, you reach up to run your fingertips back along his jaw.

The third, he pulls you against him with a gasp.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hence was Mettaton was so down on CoBC's Christmas day. 
> 
> Ghost Language! Guess what it's based on and you win a prize :3
> 
> -Trayalakali-: 'Close one', 'Dear one', a term of endearment for family members.
> 
> The absolute sweetest thing in the world, is those first moments between yourself and a new lover. I can only hope I captured a small spark of that here <3


	14. All is Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

You’re so soft in his arms, and it’s in that and the smell of your shampoo, something sharp and cloyingly sweet, that Felix grounds himself before his magic flares out and breaks something when you're done. Shame and pity and horror mix together in his soul.

“I am _so_ sorry” he whispers with his muzzle turned into your hair, nosing aside the strands to press himself to your warmth. You feel so _small_ in his arms, even though he knows damn well that you’re not, and he instinctively wraps his other arm around you. “If I could find him, I’d do more than put him in jail.”

And you laugh, a quiet laugh that he feels against his chest, and it sounds like music against that strange pulse that all humans seem to have. A ‘heartbeat’ if he remembers correctly, a spastic little jumping thing inside you that keeps you alive.

You say no, because of _course_ you do, and then you casually tell him that the man is _out_ , that he could be _anywhere_ because he _ran_ and oh god the desire to find him, and chase him down, and _kill_ him rises like bile in his throat. He’s probably squeezing you too hard by now but he doesn’t care, tries to pull you closer, actually, until you’re almost in his lap, and the bile twists into words-

“I don’t care…”

-and he doesn’t care, because the kind of person that would _do_ that to a woman, to any woman but especially one as proud and strong as you?

It makes him feel…

“…that’s…that’s sick. That’s worse than sick. I know people do it, Stars do I know, but…they should be put down like animals.”

And thank the Starsong that you can’t see his face, because he knows he’s snarling, his lips peeled back to show strong, white teeth, and he consciously keeps his claws covered so they don’t even prickle your skin. His magic is perseverance, but his Soul is justice; a bright gold seed at the heart of a violet bloom, and it roars up as fiercely as when first the Snowdrake had begged from fear of homelessness.

Something…something _almost_ foreign, something he’s felt dimly and far off a few times before, something proprietary and wild, that bane of the close-cousined monsters, rears up in his Soul. Demanding that he do something, _anything_ , to prove that he’s worthy of you, that _he’ll_ protect you, that _he’s_ the one you should chose, and mindlessly he rubs himself against you, close enough to smell the powder and sweetness of your skin as he brushes against your cheek.

And before he can so much as jerk away, because he did _not_ mean to do that…you try sweetly to copy him, like a little one pushing up under an elders chin for silliness, and it undoes him.

You’re so close

And you’re so bright

And

______________

Your first giddy thought is how _soft_ his mouth is. It’s…different, much different from kissing a human, but not hard to get used to, just a changed angle and thinner lips. At first, he kisses you like he’s afraid to, like he’s afraid he’ll hurt you, and his paws stay rooted on your shoulder and neck where they’ve been. So when you break apart, you whisper, “No…” and pull him back, this time sliding a hand up his cheek to gently run your nails through the longer hair along his jaw and down his neck. Tentatively, he lets his grip fall until he has his arms around your waist, and you move with him until you’re truly in his lap, straddling him with your dress riding up high around your thighs.

He pulls back from you, his breath coming heavy when the crux of your thighs settles over him, pupils blown and jaw working, and it sends a lazy curl of heat low in your belly that you follow until, softly, you grind down against his length.

His breath leaves him in a broken gasp, and _now_ he pulls you to him, one paw gripping the back of your neck, one coaxing you to move on top of him until you’re lightheaded with want. Then he groans, a deep sound in his throat that draws a pant from you, but _nonono_ he’s pulling back from you, pushing slightly until you’re forced to sit up from him.

“Kit…fuck, Kitten wait, wait.”

He’s breathless, and at your whine, his hips stutter up into you in a move that makes you both arch forward, but again he masters himself, turning his head to stare at the wall for a moment. When he looks back, his eyes are soft, but he looks…ashamed?

“You should…you should know something about me. Before you…we, get any further into…this.” He gestures at you both, and the seriousness on his face is enough to make you sit back, worried. Was he okay? Was something wrong?

“If you want me to go after this, I get it. But…down in the underground, I wasn’t so clean either. I smoked, I still smoke sometimes. And down there…down there, I did more than smoke. I did some stuff, hard stuff. Hard like the drug that guy did.”

Some small corner of your mind wails, tells you to _get out get away_ , but you wait, if only because Felix took his paws completely off you and has them loose on the couch, giving you an easy out if you wanted it.

“I haven’t, and I have _proof_ that I haven’t, hell I’ll go to one of the seers and let you watch every memory, for the past year, not since the barrier went down. It hurt like hell and I almost gave up, but I got it out of me before I went to school. But I was like him, at one point.”

For a long, long time you stare hard at him. His eyes are clear, if not ashamed, and he doesn’t twitch or blink to give away a lie. His body language stays open, unconfining. You hold his eyes with yours, thinking hard and long, because you _promised_ yourself you’d never let a situation like that happen again with your knowledge.

“Did you ever hurt anybody?”

He blinks, surprised at the question. “What? No, no, I…”

And then he sees it, sees what you’re asking. “No. I was…what I did, flashfrost it was called, it made me…not care. A murderer could have held me at knife point, and I would’ve sold them a drink. It just made you numb, not crazy or angry.”

Oh god, but you can see the appeal of that. He sighs, his chest moving under your hands, and lets his head fall back. “It was so, _so_ stupid. I made my grandmother so upset, I thought she’d fall right there, the night I came home and she caught me.”

You give yourself time, watching him and thinking as he waits silently. Then…

“Felix…stop smoking. Go clean off that kind of shit.”

He lifts his head up, meeting your eyes and taking a breath, but you cut him off before he can say something.

“I know it’s hard, I’m not asking for cold turkey. But…work at it, and _prove_ you’re working at it. Not just lip service. And if I think you’re at anything else, anything harder…I’m out. I’m not doing that again.”

You give him a hard look, because he needs it. Then you lean forward and press your lips to his neck, because you want to, and the choking moan you get from him is worth the funny angle you have to bend at.

“I mean it baby. No more smoking.” You whisper it in his ear then gently graze your teeth down the outside shell, figuring a little positive reinforcement can’t hurt.

“I’ll go vegan if you keep doing that…” he gasps, grabbing your hips and squeezing the flesh there. “I’ll...do my best, I swear I will. It’s hard, it might take some time, but I promise I’ll work on it.”

You nod, your lips against his cheek in a soft kiss. Slowly, he brings up one paw until it hovers over your chest, and whispers, “Can I touch you?”

You nod again, the word “Please…” leaving your lips in a breath as soft pads press up against your breast, warm even through the layers of fabric. He lets the weight of it rest in his palm, stretches his paw flat over it, then runs a thumb over the stiffening peak in a move you can just _barely_ feel, and suddenly you’re wearing far too much clothing. Apparently he agrees, because at the same time you lean back to slip your dress over your head along with your bra, he starts unbuttoning his shirt, both of you grinning at the other for a moment at the coincidence. Then he heaves up slightly beneath you to pull his shirt from behind his back, and you get your first good look at a most definitely _not_ human body.

Under a thick layer of red fur, speckled here and there with white, his muscles move in a _v_ -shape almost, bunching and shifting in layered points down his stomach as he breathes hard. It almost throws you, the lack of pecs or abs or belly button or _anything_ that’d you’d normally find when a lover took their shirt off, but…

But then you hear him make a noise in his throat, and look up to find him staring at you with equal interest and concern, one paw hemming and hawing in the air over your stomach, and somehow his inexperience with this makes your feel a thousand times better.

“It’s alright…” you whisper, smiling a little when he jerks up to meet your eye. “You can touch me, I…I guess it’s different than what you’re used to but…”

He wavers, then in a sudden move that makes you shriek and giggle, he stands up, supporting you easily with muscles that are mostly there for show rather than real need. You keep telling yourself _magicmagicmagic_ the whole time he carries you back to your dark bedroom and dumps you on the bed, kicking the door shut as you bounce down with a laugh. Then he’s crawling up the bed to loom over you, and the laughter dies down to a thrumming heat in your chest as you stare up at him.

“Show me what to do for you” he murmurs, gaze dragging down your body. As you trail one hand down your chest, letting your fingers linger over your breast as the other knots up in your hair, he slides back and stands, unbuttoning his pants in a hurry. Your breath leaves you in a rush when his stomach flexes, and you roll your nipple between two fingers, closing your eyes to stave off the silly embarrassment of letting him watch you touch yourself.

Slowly, your hand falls until you let a finger slip between your legs, and Felix whispers, almost to himself, “That’s not so different then…”

The bed dips with his weight, and gentle lips slide up your stomach and through the valley of your breasts. Then he drags his tongue over your nipple, and _yes_ you noticed correctly earlier, there’s a texture to it. Not as rough as a cat’s tongue, not by far, but almost ridged, like maybe at one point in history his ancestors were more the same as surface cats. It’s _amazingly_ different, and when you arch up into his mouth, he slides a palm under your back to support you as he roughly licks first one side then the other, then sets to a long, gentle sucking that has you squirming beneath him. It’s the longest anyone’s ever paid attention to your breasts before, and finally it’s you that breaks first with a breathy “ _Please_ Felix” that brings him up to meet your eye. You’re gasping and so, _so_ empty, and when you pull him up to lay out against you, you don’t even think twice before cradling his hips between your thighs. Then he brushes your hair out of your eyes, and kisses you so sweetly you think you can taste it, before murmuring, “You okay?”

You breathe out a _yes,_ letting your hands wander over him. It only took a moment to get past soft fur and strange muscles, and already this feels so, so normal and right and perfect. His tail flicks up behind him, and without thinking, you reach out and tweak the tip, drawing a dirty look and a nip on the shoulder for your efforts. But the slight shift in positions suddenly brings his length to press blunt and heavy against you, and at his soft look, you nod, and he pushes inside you in one deep stroke.

Oh...

Oh. __

You’d been worried on some silly, distant level that the rumors you’d heard, of Monsters having the same ‘parts’ as their surface counterpoints, would be true, and that this would be painful or even impossible in some way. But no, no there’s a texture there…

and _oh_ it’s good. Again, the term ‘ridged’ comes faintly to mind along with its various synonyms, filtering up through a haze of pleasure, and you’re suddenly struck with giggles when your brain fixates on ‘ribbed for her pleasure’. Felix squints at you for a moment, his teeth clenched from holding himself back, but you shake your head and kiss him.

“Just happy” you whisper against his lips, and you can feel his answering smile against your own. Then he rocks out and back into you, and your smile drops into a moan as he hisses out a breath, cursing softly in a language you don’t know.

You’re lost in it, in the sensation of him inside you, over you, groaning things in your ear, or marking every inch of you he can reach with teeth and tongue. It all builds, pushing you higher and higher, until finally you can’t bear it anymore and reach down between the two of you to touch yourself.

“ _Fuck!”_ the curse bursts from him, low and ragged when you arch back moaning and he finally notices what you’re doing to yourself, staring at you with such affection and want that it draws a cry from your throat. “Fuck yes Kitten, _please,_ do it for me, come on, look at you…”

He matches your movements until he’s snapping his hips fast and rough into you, then loops one arm under your knee and pulls you down slightly, relentless and urgent. It’s the change in angle that does it, and you’re over the edge and moaning through clenched teeth within seconds, your body jerking up and tightening around him. The breath leaves him in a hard, guttural groan, and then he falls to one forearm beside your head as you feel him pulse inside, his body going stiff for a moment before collapsing boneless on top of you.

“Sorry….sorry…” he pants, struggling to sit up, but you just laugh and wrap your arms around him, holding him where he is. He doesn’t weigh that much, and you honestly just want to keep him here for a moment before the real world breaks back in.

But it doesn’t break in, to your immense surprise. After a few moments, he looks at you and murmurs, “I’m gonna move, okay?”. At your nod he pulls out of you, watching your face worriedly when you wince. You wave it off and pull him back down with a whispered, “Just sensitive”.  When he finally moves off of you with a good-natured grumble of, “Little monkey…”, it’s only to roll to the side before reaching out and gathering you up. There you both stay for a while, quiet except for slowing breaths, before he breaks the silence with,

“So I was _gonna_ ask you to go as my date to this Christmas party tomorrow, got you a present and everything to make it extra special, our _first date_ together if you said yes…”

-He flops one arm up dramatically, and you hold your breath as your lips twitch-

“…but I’m pretty sure we just covered like 5 dates in one night, so Christmas eve anniversary it is. Holy virgins and all that, you humans have weird ideas.”

You can’t help it, you burst out laughing. He watches you from the corner of one eye, trying very hard to looking displeased, but when you calm yourself enough to say, “I’d love to go,” through the giggles, he breaks into a big smile and leans over to rub his nose against yours for a minute before falling back again. “Good,” he says with a yawn, reaching out and dragging you against him.

You stretch out, nuzzling into his chest, before _finally_ the stress of the morning catches up to you, and you drift off listening to his breaths coming deeper and deeper.

 


	15. Something small

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

You wake slowly as a shaft of sunlight drifts across the room, to find Felix standing bare before the window, gazing out at the snow-covered cityscape. 

"Fe?" It comes out a sleepy murmur and he turns and smiles, coming back to lay beside you and running a paw over your hair. 

"Just...wanted to see the sun." His voice is soft, his touch gentle as he explores your skin in the daylight. This close, you can see the tiny ridges in his nose, the delicate black lines around his eyes, the mostly-human shape of him where it lays soft between his legs. 

You turn onto your back, stretching lazily, and then gasp out a giggle when he runs one paw over your breasts, gripping them gently, and-

"-Ow!" 

He yanks back, grimacing, and you reach up to touch the tiny pinprick on your chest. 

"Shit, I'm sorry..." He hesitates, cradling his paw to his chest, then looks away with a sigh. "Sorry...I'll cut them..."

You reach out, pulling him back to you, and run your other hand down his chest, shabbily grooming him. "Felix, baby, it's okay. I scratched you last night..." 

You look away then, embarrassed at being so candid yet wanting to make him comfortable...then yelp when something warm and clinging drags across the tiny dot on your chest. Looking down, you come face to face with Felix in the middle of doing something he instantly looks mortified for doing. He'd gently, so gently, lapped across the little spot of blood, and as you watch, a purple spark closes the pinprick instantly. 

The effects are much different than when he'd healed the Wisp wounds. That close to your nipple, it sends a sudden shiver of pleasure through you, making you gasp and grip him for a moment. 

"Do that again..." you whisper, and after a moment, a slow smile spreads across Felix's face. Slowly, his lips pulling back in a lazy snarl, he drags surprisingly long canines over the valley of your breasts, then nibbles ever so gently on your stiffening peak with a tiny spike of pain. Before the moan even leaves your throat, he leans down and gently kisses the first little red trail, then sucks hard on your nipple.

Your hips stutter up as you whine at the purple flash of magic, burying your hands in the fur on his shoulders as he slowly works his way down you.

By the time he reaches your belly, you realize what he means to do and try to pull him back, only succeeding in making him nip at your belly button.

“Noooo..." you moan half-heartedly, trying to ignore his wandering tongue. You’re sticky and sleepy, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air, and as much as you want him, you’re too self-conscious to relax.

"What's wrong?" His voice is muffled by your stomach, his face nuzzling there for a moment in a way that makes you smile. He drags across your skin; a long, luxurious lick that instantly makes you think of him doing that elsewhere, and you squirm in indecision. "I just...need a shower is all," you explain, biting your lip and looking away.

"But human soap hurts my nose...and right now, you smell like _me_." Then he buries his muzzle in the crease of your thigh and inhales at the same moment he slips a gentle finger inside you, and it's such a foreign, animalistic combination of sensations that you rock down against his paw, a breathy whine leaving you. You’ve never seen Felix like this, silly and relaxed, and it makes your heart flutter even as you drift through a haze a pleasure.

He twists until the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, circling it gently, and oh god it's so good, with the remnants of last night’s lovemaking leaving you slick and soft inside, just a gentle, slow stretch around him that starts a deep, heavy pulse in your belly. But as good as it feels, you can tell it will take you forever like this; that you could be here for ten minutes or more just slowly building the heat, so you try to push his paw away gently, try to pull him up in bed while murmuring, "Takes too long...let me have you."

But he just smiles, soft and lazy against the flesh of your hip, and carefully crooks a finger inside you so you gasp and lose your grip on him, biting your lip. "It's Christmas day Kitten, I ‘got nowhere to be. Go ahead..."

And so, trusting that at least he asked for this…you do.

The world feels bright and still, the sun flooding in and highlighting Felix from the side, shining a warm pink through his ears, glazing his fur with gold. He’s quiet as you lay there, slowly rocking your hips against his palm, giggling even as you moan when he rubs his chin against your inner thigh, or grazes his tongue across your hipbone, marking you over and over. Your breathing changes, slow and heavy as you begin to tremble in bursts, chasing after those little sparks of _moremoremore_ that pick up pace far too slowly. Your hands tangle in your hair, in the bedsheets, on your breasts, _anything_ to find a solid anchor, and when your hips jerk with a particularly sweet spike of heat, Felix pushes his head down into your thigh with a breathy, ‘ _Fuck’,_ before lurching forward to lap his tongue up above his paw. It startles you so badly your teeth lose their grip on your lip, and your groan is harsh in the air.

It’s echoed in his chest, an almost _growl_ that you feel against your sex, and then without thinking, you reach down and tangle your fingers in the long fur behind his ears, pulling his muzzle back against you.

Embarassed, you instantly let go, afraid that it was too forward, that he’ll be freaked out or offended…but his eyes meet yours, and they're gold slits squinted against the internal battle to be patient for you. Holding your gaze above your stomach, he bends his head to you and sucks, one paw reaching out and putting your hand back on his neck.

This juxtaposition of everything you’ve ever come to subconsciously expect of the opposite-sex-versus-Felix is what undoes you in the end, when a wandering paw reaches up and drags down your waist, claws biting in slightly just as their owner finds a particularly good rhythm of tongue and fingers. You grit your teeth, gasping out as your back arches, your orgasm building before slamming out of you in a hard jerk of your hips, and Felix swears against you, his breath leaving him in a hard burst that you feel against your heat, another layer of pleasure on top of all the others that makes you writhe; half trying to get closer, half trying to get away.

You come down slowly, lights dancing in your eyes as you pant, and then Felix moves up your body until he’s half kneeling over you, working himself hard as he stares at your face, your chest…

Reaching up shakily, you cup your hand around his, the two of you matching each other in rhythm on his length until his jaw snaps closed and he throws his head back, streaking with hot splashes over your breasts. He stays like that for a moment, the two of you slowing together on him, and looks down at you, the strangest expression on his face. Then with a lurch, he slides down the bed onto the floor, and rummages through his clothes from last night, surfacing and collapsing back on the bed beside you with a huff.

He has something in his paw, something small and velvety like a bag, and even in your winded state, you turn and reach for it, murmuring, “Mmmmm...What’s that?”

He pulls it out of your reach with a lazy smile, scooting up slightly until his back is propped against the pillows, pulling you up with him.

“It’s your Christmas present…and _Stars_ woman, you’re beautiful.” He says it so sincerely, so honestly and out of the blue, that you squirm over and hide your face in his stomach.

“No...and nonono, you didn’t have to get me anything! I didn’t get anything for you-”

“-Shh!”

You raise your eyebrow at him, but hush as he stares at the wall for a moment. When he meets your eye again, he looks…sad? No, more...resigned somehow, as if he’d just remembered, or realized, something important. Like he was giving in to something, or admitting something. 

“This is…I want to give it to you. It’s a…so enchantments are… _what_ this is..." He huffs and tried again. "So...not many monsters can put their magic _into_ inanimate objects, just act on them. But…” He shrugs, his fur rippling over his shoulders. “My family co..can. Put their magic _into_ things, I mean, and have it remain there. It's what our magic does-it perseveres, at the expense of raw strength. So…”

He dumps the little pouch out onto one paw…

It’s a stone, clear and bright with tiny rainbows inside, as big around as a chicken’s egg but roughly cut. It’s clearer than most crystals you’ve ever seen in jewelry or on display in gift shops, more like a gem actually, and it refracts the incoming sun into rainbows across your breasts.

The effect is amazing across the simplicity of your room, and like so many times since you’ve started being around monsters, you feel a faint sense of…of _elation_ , of joy or brightness in your heart, and it's strangely separate yet entwined with your care for this Cat. "Felix this is so beautiful, what is it???"

"I think humans call them 'Herkimer Diamonds', underground they were called 'Icedrops’. They're not very rare, and they're not expensive, but they _are_ one thing..."

"What?" you figure he's enjoying himself, stretching this little reveal out, so you wait for him as he runs his paw over the ruff at the base of his neck, taking a breath.

"They're _fantastic_ at holding magic." With that, he reaches his other paw over and gently taps the stone with one claw.

In the very center a tiny spark of purple fire kindles, slowly growing brighter until it's almost the size of a dime; a miniature ember of violet light burning fuellessly within a crystal shell.

"You can make it brighter or dimmer if you want, it'll respond to a basic thought like that, and if you focus hard on it, it can point to um...to where I'm at." He holds a paw over it, and instantly a little spark separates from the mass and moves to cling to the wall of crystal nearest him.

"If you're ever hurt, you can crack it and pour the magic out into the wound like water; it won't cure a bullet hole completely, but it'll stop the bleeding until you get somewhere safe. I…I worry about you.”

You smile at first, about to exclaim about how pretty it is, how amazing…but then it sinks into you. His family, his kind, can do something most if not all other monsters can’t. And here he’s giving something of that ability to you, with the _express_ purpose of protecting you, guiding you, or helping you find him.

Something dangerously close to…to an emotion you don’t want to think about yet bubbles inside your chest, and you reach out to take it from him silently. Clutching it in your hand, you crawl over until you’re laying between his legs, propped against his chest, and wrap your arms around him.

“Thank you.”

He pulls you against him, nuzzling in against your ear.

“Remember it. Merry Christmas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fluff chapter to hold you over until I get back Sunday :)


	16. Listening Between the Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

It’s at least another hour before, dozily, you slip out of bed and pad into the bathroom with the blanket wrapped around you. Felix is still fast sleep, one paw flexing every so often, and you wonder just how tired he was before he came over. It’s hard to tell; none of the usual human signs are visible on him like dark circles or paleness, but…something about him has just looked _dull_ lately. Immaculately well-groomed, but lifeless.

You smile, watching him a moment longer from the bathroom door, before closing it behind you and dropping the blanket, then grabbing your toothbrush. When you catch your reflection in the mirror as your rinse your mouth, you notice a suspicious red mark on your shoulder, and bend slightly to find five marks on both of your shoulders, as if someone with long nails or claws had clutched you there.

Something proprietary comes over you at the sight of it, of physical marks left by your lover, and it makes you curious.

Making sure both doors are locked, you turn on the light above the sink, and look yourself over. A little flushed, hair mussed, and…ah, a suspiciously-shaped bruise on your hip, and on your inner thigh, a light hickey. You watch your own expression as the thoughts of that morning float through your mind, somewhat entranced as your see your face change the way Felix must whenever he does something particularly attractive. Reaching up hesitantly, you bunch your hair up out of the way to pull a ‘sexier’ face, turning slightly when-

“Hey…you in there?”

Felix knocks quietly, but in the stillness of the apartment, it’s still enough to make you jump. “Oh yeah, sorry!” you call back. “Just getting ready. You need anything?”

He scuffs slightly against the door. “Nah. I have my stuff with me.”

You frown at that; how could he have anything? He hadn’t brought a bag in…

Glancing up, you catch the reflection of the shower in the mirror, and a thought you’d had earlier comes back to you. You gather up the blanket again and wrap it around yourself, then open up the door to _quite_ the sight.

Felix in yesterday’s pants, unbuttoned and unzipped, sprawled out and looking very at home on your bed with a pair of _glasses_ low on his nose, reading over the front page of a stack of papers.

You must have stood there too long, or made a noise or _something_ , because he glances up at you. “What?”

You blush; you _know_ you blush. “N-nothing, just uh…didn’t know you wore glasses? I wanted to ask you something though…”

He sets the papers down and pulls them off his nose, sitting them down on the bed before coming over to you. “Just need them for reading. Having second thoughts already? Normally I get longer than this…”

He says it jokingly, but you see the honesty in the way he hesitates before reaching out to you. You smile up at him, stepping close and rubbing your nose in the soft fur under his chin. “No silly, I think I’ll keep you around for a while. But this morning…you said my shampoo hurt your nose?”

It’s still slightly surprising, to feel very warm paw-pads where you’d normally expect fingers when he pulls you against him for a moment. “I mean, it’s not…you don’t have to change it for me, I’ll live, it just…”

You feel him curl his nose against the side of your head. “It smells…sharp.”

Wondering if maybe this is like perfume or air freshener hurting surface-cats noses, you hum in your throat. “Well I don’t have anything different right now…but come shopping with me next time I go? We’ll see what we find together?”

He goes still against you for a moment, before nodding. “Sure.”

Then you notice that, slowly, he’s sneaking his paw under the blanket against your side, and you shove him gently, grinning in spite of yourself . “Stop that, don’t we have a thing to go to?”

He does his best to look pitiful. “Well yeah….but it’s not until _five_ , and that blanket just looks so inviting you know…”

You snort, stepping around him to rummage around in your drawers. “Uh huh.” You fish out some underwear and a bra, turn, and almost drop them in surprise. Felix has his phone in one hand; at least you _think_ it’s a phone, and floating above it is something like…like holograms, holograms he’s sorting through with flicks of his fingers. He switches back and forth between two pairs of what looks like dress pants, before spinning past them completely and settling on a dark-wash pair of jeans. Then he _pulls_ the jeans themselves from the hologram.

“No way!” You almost trip as you take a step toward him, staring, underwear dangling from your hand. “That’s so cool!” 

He looks up from picking between t-shirts. “Oh, this?”

“YES that…is that like teleporting, or materializing, your stuff from home?”

He nods, a blue t-shirt fading into view in his hand. “It’s Dr. Alphy’s work. Teleporting inanimate objects, the latest models of her personal line of tech stuff supports it.”

You nod, turning that over for a moment…then an ugly thought comes to you suddenly.

“Felix…baby, humans scientists don’t uh…don’t know this exists, right? Because…I think they’d kill for it. I really do. You all know that right?”

You say it in the middle of him sliding the papers back into the ‘return’ box neatly labeled at the bottom of his screen, and he pauses, then shrugs and opens his paw. The papers disappear into the phone, and he sits it down, the screen flickering off.

Maybe it’s nothing, but something in his body language makes you push the issue. “No, don’t just shrug, I mean it. Does the um, the King, does he have anyone who advises him on things like that? Do you know?” It’s something you’ve wondered before, though you’re sure there’s better people than you to be considering problems like that.

Felix sighs, before looking up at you.

“Not exactly, no. _____, you…you care more than most humans. It’s gonna get you hurt someday.”

You can’t read his expression, and the the chill in his voice sets you back for a moment. You also don’t miss the slight dig of ‘humans’, like he’s lumping you in with all the bigots and racists, and you turn away before he sees the hurt on your face.

“Felix, someone _has_ to care! It’s not right; monsters have magic, and they can probably do a _lot_ of damage with it, but there’s six BILLION humans! Six billion! You can’t outnumber that! And how many of those humans are going out of their ways to tell monsters important little things like this, things they might not know like ‘Humans have killed each other to steal ideas for inventions, so keep yours secret’? If I get hurt because I’m standing up for what I believe…well, there’s worse ways to go. Stop trying to…to warn me off you somehow, if you want to get rid of me then say so straight.”

There’s a long silence, and you’re wondering if maybe you pushed him too hard too soon, when Felix asks quietly, “Have you read the cultural guidebook yet?”

You turn to stare at him; it’s such a left-field question. “Not yet, no…I mean, I skimmed through it, but I never had a chance, and things got too busy recently.”

He picks up his phone, does something to unlock the ‘items’ feature he’d been using before, and pulls a good-sized book from it that looks vaguely familiar. Thumbing it open to a page, he starts reading it out loud.

_“’Queen’, also commonly ‘Dame’ or ‘Headwoman’ in the English language._

_These words could all be considered direct translations of the same All-Speak term, used often in reference to an archaic title given to the female inheritor and leader of elder families of Monsters. The term fell from common use after the Royal Family cemented its claim to the leadership of Monsters, concurrently creating a new title-structure which combined the female-royal’s name with a modifier of importance. However, it is still used by some older or more traditional monsters in reference to a female in a position of leadership or sponsorship over others, as a way to signify the speaker’s respect and support of that person._

He closes the book and puts it back, not meeting your eye. “You got mad at me when I called you that, and it took me a while to understand why. Humans don’t sometimes hear us the way we mean them to. All-Speak is tricky when the listener doesn’t have their own word that matches what you’re saying.”

Sighing, he scratches the back of his neck. “I just…I don’t want to see someone like you getting hurt because you’re trying to take on the world for us. You’re…important.”

The word ‘important’ rings funny in your ears for a second, and it reminds you of the conversation long before that had you both spitting at each other. ‘Queen’ had physically sounded strange for a moment too, though you’d been too tired and grouchy to notice it.

 _‘It’s a different language’_ you realize dimly. _‘Like google automatically translating something; things get lost in the translation.’_

It takes less than a few seconds, but the moment you realize that, it’s like an echo rises in the back of your mind.

_Important. You-important._

_You are important to me._

It’s amazing how such a slight change in comprehension can make such a difference. It’s an apology, an explanation of his earlier statement, and a reason for his behavior, all building on each other and wrapped up into one word.

_I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m just afraid someone will hurt you._

_I’m afraid of you getting hurt, because you’re important to me._

_You’re important to me, because you care-I care about me-you, and I don’t want to lose you._

The last bit seems a little mixed up in your own mind, but you get the basic idea. He’s nervous in this situation too, and wants you to reassure him that he’s not just walking into a trick. You wonder how much else you’ve been missing in your conversations with Monsters; if it’s all like this, and you’ve just been hearing the barest surface. 'All-Speak'...it made sense in a way, that Monsters spoke a sort of universal-language; how else could they have come to the surface after a thousand years, immediately fluent? The unnerving but inevitable follow up question of _why_ you can suddenly hear this difference, one you haven't heard anyone else mention before, you push to the back of your mind to ask about later.

“I care about you too.” You say it gently, walking up to him and hugging him awkwardly with your underwear still clutched in your hand. “I really do, it sounds so stupid and cliché, but you’re different. I can’t say it like you, like…like all my words stacking on top of each other like that, but…yeah.”

You finish it lamely, only to have Felix tilt your chin up and kiss you softly. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes are wondering as he looks at you.

“How the h...never mind.” He takes a deep breath, then nudges you toward the bathroom. “You go first, since you’ll take _forever_.”

You ‘humph’, sticking your nose into the air, and waltz into the bathroom. “I dunno, I mean…I _do_ have less hair than you.”

As you shut the door, he half-shouts,

“Yeah, and it’s weird too!”

You grin, and start the shower, trying to pick out the least-smelly shampoo you own. As you stand there, it runs through your mind again and again, making you smile.

_You’re important to me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OC submission appearances start next chapter :)


	17. A Display of Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song to listen to at the part labeled "-Song-" is Electric Love by BORNS :) It's exactly how I picture Napstablook's music.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

“So…what kind of thing is this, anyway?” you shout as you pull on nice jeans, figuring you’ll just match Felix is terms of formality. You’ve discovered that he’s one of those people who leaves the bathroom door open while he showers, and likes to talk the entire time.

“The Christmas Boardwalk Business Fair. Neal gets an invitation every year, and this time they extended it to me too.”

Something warm blooms inside you at that; pride for your man who became an attorney so young after so much work. You sigh at the steam rolling out of the bathroom, and dig around in your closet for a jacket both warm enough AND dressy enough for tonight. Everyone knows about the business fair; an opportunity for the big-shots in the city to show off how much money they have by sponsoring light displays and food for all the local business owners. Shops can open stands on the boardwalk to advertise their wares, there’s bonfires and games on the sand, and all manner of professionals and their families come as a holiday tradition.

Your father had taken you a few times, you remember, until he’d gotten remarried and started taking his step-daughter instead. You wonder if he’ll be there, but…no, he hadn’t even texted you a ‘Merry Christmas’ yet. It’s petty, but you refuse to be the first to reach out to him yet again.

One of your folders sitting on top of your dresser catches your eye, and it feeds the spark of an idea you’ve been turning over in your mind for weeks.

“Will there be Monster vendors there too, do you think?” you ask as Felix steps from the bathroom, jeans slung low on his hips as purple sparks flutter around him. He’d told you earlier not to bother giving him a towel; he’d just get hair on it, and “he can do better besides”. Now you almost melt in jealousy of him just being able to magic himself dry.

“Probably..no, I know there will be. I know a few that definitely will, why?”

You grab an empty binder from the stack on your nightstand, and toss a couple pens into your purse. “Well, it’s a business fair right? The Stained Glass is looking for some smaller, local businesses to work with, and I’d love for a few at least to be Monster-owned.”

With your back to him, you don’t see the way his eyes go soft at that, before he tugs a t-shirt down over his head. Over that goes a grey pull over, then a black wool jacket, and you turn back in time to see him folding the cuffs back neatly.

“You are _disgustingly_ fashionable” you grumble, looking down at your own jeans, flats, and plain navy-striped shirt under a black jacket. Then you look again, and realize that without meaning to, the two of you had matched each other. He must catch it at the same time, because he looks you over and grins.

“Kitten, you look _fine._ I like those pants on you, I’ve never seen you wear anything less than formal.” He steps toward you, reaching out to pull your hips against him. You lean up and kiss him, a pleased hum in your throat; you’d thought the same when you saw his jeans too.

“And without those heels, you’re even shorter…” he trails off with a grin, squinting slightly in preparation for the gentle smack you bring you hand up to give him. Then you pause, an evil idea comng to mind, and step back slightly to slowlyslowly start sinking to your knees, dragging your mouth down his chest.

“But now I’m so much closer to this…” you tease with a murmur, almost letting your lips reach the waistband of his pants before you stand and step away with a bounce, scooping up your purse and binder and flouncing out into the living room.

You make it three steps in before he pounces, spinning you and driving you against the arm of the couch with a low rumble in his chest.

“Tease…” he mutters, pulling your hips back to gently grind against you, making you giggle and sigh in the same breath. You’ve never been with someone like him before; so…so playful, lighthearted and casual in the best of ways.

Then you both hear a quiet cough from the doorway, and look to find Napstablook half through the door (they still really haven’t gotten the hand of corporeal living). Frozen there with Felix’s arm around your waist, his chest and hips flush against your back, you can do nothing but turn beet-red as, slowly, a grin spreads across Napstablook’s face.

“Good morning…I texted you, but…I-if you’re going to the business fair…stop by the fountain display….” Then their grin turns wicked, and they add, “If you make it that far.”

Then they turn and vanish, leaving you to call out before collapsing down on your folded arms. “No hey Napstablook, wait! Ugh, my god, that’s so embarrassing…”

Felix snickers behind you, completely unbothered (the wretch). “Time was, they’d have run, and you wouldn’t have seen them again for a month.”

When you look at him, he shrugs. “I’m not kidding. Underground…they’d vanish for months at a time. Just…gone. We never knew if they’d fallen, or just disappeared somewhere we couldn’t get to.”

You straighten, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek, before grabbing your dropped purse and folder. “I’m glad they’re doing better...hey also, I’ve heard Monsters say that before. ’Fallen’. What does it mean?”

He sighs, stepping around you to open the door. “Monsters can die from physical injuries if they’re bad enough, just like humans. But they can also, like…fade. Fade into nothing, until their Soul falls from existence. Hopelessness, heartbreak, betrayal…any negative emotion like that can cause it, if it’s strong enough.”

You frown, thinking of Napstablook, or Felix, or Doggo, just…falling, just disappearing into nothing but dust. “I didn’t know…” Then a horrible thought hits you. “Oh my god Felix, is that…happening now? Because of how humans are acting?”

When he doesn’t answer or meet your eye, a small, sick feeling settles in your stomach. You follow him out the door, trying to think back. Some of your employees had never returned, hadn’t responded to the request for a description of how they were harassed…

“Felix, what if that happened to some of my employees?”

He sighs, fishing his keys out of his pocket as the two of you tap down the stairs. “I don’t know. We looked into it a little, to see why they didn’t answer….but honestly Kitten, don’t have time to search out every single one and see if they’re okay. It’s not super common, they could just have moved somewhere else, but…”

He shrugs, looking defeated.

The ride to the beach is quiet, both of you wrapped up in thought, but the sight of the beach full of people and stands cheers you. When you get out, the chill wind off the ocean whips you so hard for a moment that it takes your breath away, and you hurry to get up onto the boardwalk where the vendor’s stands act as buffets for the wind.

There aren’t a ton monster stands, but then, you’d figured there wouldn’t be. Felix had said earlier that a lot of them had gone Underground to their own festival of sorts. There’s still a good many though, distinguishable at a glance by the purple crest each sported on their sign.

Near the beginning of the second row, a pottery stand catches your eye. You leave Felix behind where he’s talking animatedly to a blue fire-elemental, and wander over.

“Good evening.” The owner of the stand, a very tall Monster with a feline body and bird-like features, steps around the wooden back and in behind the counter. “Excuse me, I was just checking on something.”

Their voice is rich and deep, feminine, and you smile at them, tearing your eyes away from copper feathers that glow in the light of the various oil lamps set up around the stall. When they turn, you sigh in envy as the deep copper of their feathers fades to an almost iridescent sheen of steel-blue when the light catches just right.

They…she? (You can’t quite tell, but something in the grace of her movements suggests they’re a she.) She obviously specializes in oil lamps and bowls; the designs intricate and foreign. When you ask for a price on a lamp and she reaches out to check the bottom, the wind picks up slightly, revealing tightly-folded wings for a moment as she flicks their feathers back into place.

You wish, more than anything in the world at that moment, that you could see her with her wings stretched out fully, so like the beautiful creatures in the stories you’d read as a little girl.

“It’s $45, thank you for your interest.”

After a moment’s hesitation you buy one, gratefully taking an instructions card for its use as well. As you wait for her to finish packing up your bag, you read over the card she’d handed you.

“Origami- Fine Pottery and Dishware”

You smile at the name, wondering where she’d gotten it in the Underground, or if she’d picked it after coming to the surface; you employed a few monsters who’d done just that. When she hands you the bag with the lamp safely wrapped inside, her sharp talons gleam a bright, polished silver.

“You’re beautiful.” It leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and after a horrified moment, you stammer out, “I just mean, that-that your fur…feathers? Feathers are a beautiful color, and your wings are…you’re very…”

You go quiet when she holds up a taloned-hand with a gentle laugh. “Thank you. You have a beautiful Soul as well.”

You've had one ear cocked for that funny echo of words-within-words ever since earlier. You catch it now, on ‘Soul’.

_You have a beautiful…_

It’s an indescribable color that rises in your mind; predominately orange, but also a soft pink and yellow as well, and unyielding like a sunset reflected on steel.

“T-thank you!” You open your mouth to say more, but then someone bumps into you from the side, neatly stealing your purse from your hand.

You turn to yell with your fist half-raised, but it’s just Felix sporting a shit-eating grin.  “Now did I raise you to be so distrusting?” You roll your eyes at him and cross your arms, but undaunted, he reaches out and snags your waist, pulling you against him before turning to the other Monster. “Hey Ori, how goes things?”

The Gryphon- because you see it now, of _course_ she’s a Gryphon, shakes her head and snorts. “She almost just struck you across the chin, you know that right?”

Felix rubs against your hair, still grinning. “ _Where_ is the fun in life, if I don’t date a woman that wants to kill me _sometimes_?”

You glance at Origami…Ori? Ori, wondering what her reaction will be. It’s the first time Felix has called you _his_ woman to any other Monster. But Ori, after giving you both a particular look, just stretches with a smile, unfurling her wings slightly and spreading the feathers. “Things are going well. Humans are entertained by the simplest of Magics, so I make a good living.”

Felix nods, relaxing slightly. Up until that moment, you hadn’t noticed he’d been tense; anxious about something. _His friends_ , you realize. _He’s checking on his friends._

“So I don’t suppose you’ll give an old friend a discount, huh buddy? Maybe…a five-fingered discount?” As he speaks, Felix sneaks a paw out and almost hooks a pretty little bowl off the stand, but Ori is faster and knocks it away. “You stop that, or I’ll chase you with my broom like I used to. I still have it you know!”

 Felix throws up his hands in mock-fear, then perks up when someone distantly calls his name. “Hey Kitten come on, I want you to meet someone. Sorry to go Ori, you can beat me next time!”

“Bye! Thank you!” you call over your shoulder as your crazed Cat-man drags you down two rows. There’s so much to see in the dim light -a combination of barrel fires and strings of fairylights- that you feel like your eyes will fall out. Human and Monster vendors alike call out their wares, sometimes glaring at each other if sharing a stall, but often times joking and talking animatedly. You can’t help it; you’re grinning like an idiot, but it gives you hope to see so many different types of people getting along.

And _god_ are there different types of people. Human business owners, from insurance companies to BBQ caterers, wave and shout right next to Monsters of every shape and size you can imagine. There’s a Fox Monster selling beads and other sparkly trinkets, a family of what looks to be human-sized Honeybees selling various candle and honey products (is it honey they make themselves, you wonder?), and what looks to be a being made solely of wind, their form visible only through the various types of glitter that flits in their breezes and selling all types of craft supplies.

Then you reach the end of the boardwalk, panting as Felix has to slow to weave in and out of a crowd beginning to form around a section of beach. There stands Napstablook fiddling with an electrical control panel of some kind, and a Rabbit-Monster who grins the instant he sees Felix.

The crazy Cat drops your hand and jumps on the Rabbit with a whoop, almost toppling him over in the sand before he gets his balance. The two wrestle for a moment longer, with Napstablook giving them the hairy eyeball for kicking up sand, before Felix finally detaches himself with a final sucker punch to the arm and waves you over. You giggle even as you finish writing down a few shop names you’d seen, and tuck your binder back in your purse before pulling off your shoes and making your way barefoot across the cold sand to the other three. It’s so…so _freeing_ to watch Monsters interact with each other. They don’t fake seriousness or pseudo-maturity; Felix turns twenty-two this year and the Rabbit is plainly older, yet neither of them hesitate to chase each other around, laughing. It’s the innocent joy of children, tempered by the wisdom of age and experience.

Napstablook shoots you a quick smile as you draw near, but they’re plainly focused on whatever it is they’re working on. A thick tube of wires runs from their temporary booth of sound boards, panels and a laptop, right down into the water itself, and you think you can see something big and shiny under the waves. A few monsters mill around keeping people back from the edge of the beach, and from touching whatever is under the water itself, and someone has drawn a line in the sand and written “Stand behind here for best view!” above it. You glance at it, but figure Napstablook will let you know when you need to go back too. When they spot your purse hanging from your arm, they motion for you to tuck it under the stand with a collection of other bags and boxes. Figuring they'll be there for most of the time, you drop it gratefully and slide it in underneath.

Then Felix, panting and grinning like a maniac, hauls the Rabbit over in a headlock, stands him up, and presents him like a game show model.

“Woman of mine! This lovely specimen, for your _utmost_ viewing pleasure, is….Amiki F’yenta, creator of the oh so delicious Nice Cream! Yours tonight, for only one kiss!”

You’re aware of the gathering crowd behind you, still perfectly visible under the full moon above, but…oh, fuck it. The shadows are deep enough to hide you mostly. You step forward and give Felix a quick kiss, then glance over your shoulder. No one is looking your way, that you can tell...

“Well I’m yours then,” the Rabbit, Amiki, murmurs in your ear. “What will a beautiful fox like you do with this poor little bunny now that you’ve won me, huh?”

He says it _just_ loud enough that Felix can hear, stepping closer to you and brushing against your shoulder. Your first instinct is to jerk away, to step aside and get away from him, but you know he’s playing. He’s Felix’s friend obviously, so after taking a moment to gather yourself, you smile sidelong at him and walk two fingers up his arm, playing along and watching as Felix’s ears lay back for a moment. You wonder if he even knows they do that; that they give away his thoughts so easily, as he kicks off his own shoes and throws one at Amiki.

“Hey homewrecker, get in line!” His aim is good, but Amiki is dizzyingly fast; one second he’s beside you, the next there’s a blur in the air and suddenly Amiki is dangling Felix’s shoe from his paw a good twenty feet down the beach. Felix takes off after him, and you shake your head with a fond smile as the two join the rest of the people running around on the beach.

“He’s so much… happier now...” That perpetually soft voice appearing at your ear isn’t nearly as startling as it should be, and you wonder if you’re just losing your sense of amazement as Napstablook materializes at your side. You’d asked them a few days ago if they always meant to move so quietly, and they’d shrugged, saying it was ‘just part of being a ghost’.

Watching as Felix chases Amiki around as the Rabbit runs circles around him, you can see why Novi had said Rabbits made good scouts during the war. He honestly does blur, he moves so quickly.

“I’m happy with him too,” you say shyly, smiling at Napstablook. “Everything is just so…perfect for once.”

They reach out and take your hand for a moment; a habit they’d gotten into ever since discovering it was an acceptable thing for humans to do. Secretly, you wonder just how corporeal Napstablook is, even with a robotic body to anchor them. They’re always holding a part of you or tucking a foot under your leg, as if trying to weigh themselves down.

“I’m glad for-for you…the shows going to s-s-start now, if you want to move back with…with everyone. It won’t look right from here…”

“Okay!” You squeeze their hand, then let go and shout, “TOMCAT! HEY!” over the noise around you. Just as you’d expected, Felix looks up with a grin and flaps his hand in your direction, then motions to Amiki and says something. The two come jogging back as you join the rest of the crowd, only to realize something a little sad.

The people are polarizing themselves, both Monsters and Humans alike drawing apart into two almost-separate groups. You sigh, wondering what the more tactful choice would be, before a cheerful voice rises up over the noise.

“Everyone, everyone! You don’t have to split up just for me!” A younger man in an expensive leather jacket and jeans comes meandering through the crowd, grabbing people here and there and walking with them for a moment, before looping their arm with another person (monster to human, or human to monster) and continuing on. Some look offended and shake off their ‘assigned’ new friend, but others just laugh and start talking. By the time he’s reached the front of the crowd, people have slowly begun to mix into one group again, softened by his charisma and flirts.

“Good evening! I’m so glad you all could make it to the Christmas Fair, as always, sponsored by EbbCo…” he trails off expectantly, then grins at the obedient whoops from the crowd. “We have a special treat this year, an amazing result of cooperation between Mt. Ebbot University staff and EbbCo’s own engineering department, with the final product being directed by our home-grown, world-famous songwriter and DJ, Napstablook!”

Napstablook wilts under the crowds applause and cheers, but they manage a smile and a small wave.

“Now I wish I could stay, I really do! But…business doesn’t run itself, even on the holidays…and I have _plenty_ of business to get to.” The man, Peter Capra of EbbCo you realize now that you can see him clearly, gives a wolfish grin, then gestures broadly to Napstablook. “Merry Christmas to all, an open bar will be available after the show in the festival square courtesy of yours truly, and have a _smashed…_ or rather, smashing, time!” He waves a final time to plenty of cheering, then trots back up through the crowd to meet up with a small group of other, similarly dressed men and woman, and they disappear together up the boardwalk.

“Now you call ME a tomcat, but _there’s_ a guy that likes to go looking for trouble,” Felix murmurs in your ear, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Amiki steps up holding hands with what you think is _maybe_ a Badger Monster, tall and heavy built, their fur a matte black and white that contrasts sharply to their bright fuchsia eyes.

- **Song** -

You smile at them shakily, god they’re at _least_ seven feet tale, and they grin back, showing very sharp teeth. Then a deep bass-rumble starts in the speakers, and you turn back to watch the water.

When the rumble changes to a slow, pulsing beat, it’s so subtle and well done you don’t even realize it at first.. Just the slightest pulsing rising up, more felt than heard, and a syncopated soft glow that starts to brighten and fade under the water. It speeds up faster and faster, until the adrenaline in the crowd is palpable, the growing flashes of light just under the waves lighting up human and monster grins alike as people start to sway slightly to the beat.

Then, as a true drum beat and instrumentals pick up, the fountains start. Tiny jets of water, maybe three feet tall, play back and forth as the lights all fade to a crisp blue-white, highlighting them from below. It builds more and more, jets jumping back and forth in arches or shooting up straight in pulsing layers, before everything goes low at the bridge of the song. You laugh, amazed and entranced like everyone else around you.

Felix nudges you, and you tear your eyes away for a moment to look where he points. Napstablook’s eyes are closed, one hand pressed to their headphones as they sway in time to the music. It’s the calmest, the _loosest_ you’ve ever seen them, their lips parted slightly as they mouth along to this song that _must_ be theirs, it just sounds like them. Then, as the beat picks up again and builds to a chorus, they slide one hand up a panel…

The water _bursts_ into movements that can’t possibly just be mechanical, with what looks almost like a figure made of mist forming at the center of a stage being created from water jets and lights. It reaches out, dancing and singing along voicelessly to the music as other figures around it form and begin to spin and dance themselves. Rainbows of lights shine out across the crowd and beach, the mist high in the air and all around you reflecting them like a scene from a movie.  It’s beautiful and exciting in an unbelievable way, and when the song builds to its peak, you stop fighting the urge to just _move_ like everyone else around you has started to.

Little would you all know, a passerby takes a picture at that moment that makes its way into history books for years after. A crowd of over 500, Monsters and humans alike, all swaying and jumping and just being _free_ , celebrating being alive, with veils of light playing across so many different faces it’s impossible to pick out just one. For a brief moment there’s solidarity between the two dominant species of Earth, and if someone with magic had glanced down from a height, they’d have seen the pulsing Souls of a rainbow of humans intermingled with Monster magic, reflected through their happiness like a prism.

On the sand, with shoes scattered and lost from hundreds of pairs of feet, you’re suddenly overcome with _something_ , call it love for all the people around you who are lost in the joy of it all, and you turn and half fall onto Felix, laughing and holding him to you before kissing him wildly. Both of you are shivering and chattering from cold and excitement, but his eyes are clear when he pulls away to look down at you as the song slowly calms, before fading into the same pulsing beat from before with a wavering chant over it. It’s a moment you never forget; like a snippet of the ‘crazy’ teenage years you never got to have, only mixed with people of all ages, races and creeds, with the dearest of those people held in your arms, eyes a warm gold. You stare at each other for a moment, the wild grin on your face fading to something sweeter, something deeper…

-but the moment is interrupted as the crowd around you screams and cheers for Napstablook, who’s blushing silver and smiling at their feet. When monsters and humans dressed in matching jackets come forward and start dragging the fountain hardware from the water, you run up to Napstablook and work through the throng of people around them until they see you.

“Napstablook, oh my _god_ that was amazing!” You hug them tight, and whisper in their ‘ear’, “Did you do the water too? That wasn’t just fountains…”

They give you a fake guilty look, then shrug, smiling. “I c-can’t help what the water does. I just write the m-m-music.” You giggle, starting to look around futilely for your shoes. You’d left them near Napstablook, hoping they’d avoid the majority of people, but they’re nowhere in sight.

When you look back, Felix is further down the beach, also apparently searching for his shoe with everyone else (he had one). You shrug, and start picking through the kicked-up sand, matching pairs and setting them where their owners will hopefully see when you come across one.

So busy laughing and talking with the others around you, few notice the steady stream of people dressed in solid black coming down the boardwalk. When you finally do look up, the sight makes your stomach drop a little. It’s only fifty of them with some holding picket signs and megaphones, but they’re still threatening as they stand in a solid line in front of the walkways leading back up to the festival, blocking the way to the after-fair party that happens every year.

One, plainly a leader of some sort, steps forward and yells into his megaphone, “Humans go through only!” The rest pick up the chant, before it fades into that oh-so-common, “Back where they belong! Back where they belong!”

The people around you glance at each other, some drawing away from the Monsters near them as if they were diseased. Some yell back at the mob, and one older woman near you pushes two little salamander Monsters behind her with her own child, backing them up as she gets out her phone. You do the same, quickly calling 911 and explaining to the dispatcher that the protestors are blocking the only way off the beach without making people cross the fenced-off sand dunes. They assure you that officers are on their way, and after glancing around to find many others doing the same, you decide not to stay on the line.

Then you see your shoes.

They’re about fifteen feet in front of the protestors, kicked there somehow by the crowd and thankfully still together after you’d tied the laces earlier. You look around but Felix is nowhere to be seen, and surely there’s enough witnesses around that the bigots won’t _really_ try anything, right?

You walk up with your head held high like you’d learned, your back straight and your step wide, and stoop to pick up your shoes. The mob stares at you as they chant; you can feel their eyes on the back of your neck. Then someone shoves you _hard_ from behind, sending you stumbling across the sand and straight into the line of them.

A young woman with a sneer on her face catches you before you crash into her, and pushes you back hard so you fall on the pebbles and rocks that cover the beach above the high tide line. You cry out, furious and hurting, and scramble to your feet, shoes forgotten as the woman takes a step toward you. She pulls her hands back, plainly meaning to push you again…

And _something_ in the air goes very, very still, like a blanket being laid over the beach. The mob’s yells and chants die down as they and everyone else freeze, trying to figure out what changed. Then you hear it.

The noise of the ocean had stopped.

You back away from the woman as she stares over your shoulder slackjawed, then scoop up your shoes and turn to run away from her. You make it about halfway across where the crowd had been before you see what had her so dumbstruck.

Napstablook is standing there; the moonlight silhouetting them in an otherworldy way, with only their eyes visible as they glow a faint blue. But…but behind them, for as far as you can see up and down the shore, the waves had pulled out to their furthest point...and kept going. Receding further and further rather than rolling back in, and something in the back of your mind, in _every_ mind of every person on that beach who’d grown up in a shore-side town, whispers-

_Tsunami._

“Leave.” Napstablook’s quiet, gentle voice carries in the dead silence, their body slightly translucent and unnaturally still. “Get out.”

It’s plainly directed at the mob, for all that Napstablook doesn’t even sound angry. The woman who’d pushed you is the first to break, stumbling up the stairs to the boardwalk and taking off for all she's worth. The second she leaves, the others break and run, with some of the people on the beach following from fear of the water.

When the last protestor has fled, Napstablook sags slightly, and slowly, the waves begin again, inching their way back up the beach until they’re where they were before, albeit a little more agitated. Only then do you suck up the courage to walk over to Napstablook, your knees shaking. From the way they sink to the ground with their back against their booth, you think they aren’t doing so well either.

“N-Napstablook?” Your voice is shaking, damnit. You clear your throat and try again. “Are you okay?”

Napstablook stares at their feet for a moment, then looks up at you with, _oh god_ , with tears in their eyes. “They pushed you.”

What? You frown, but Napstablook keeps going before you can say something. “Ghosts don’t fight. Ghosts _never_ fight. But…”

They sigh shakily, a single tear falling down their cheek. “But they pushed you.”

You kneel down beside them with a grimace; something had jabbed into your lower back when that woman had shoved you down. With a hand that’s only a shaking a little, you reach out to wipe their tear away-

-then jerk back with a hiss when it burns your finger like acid. You jump up to rinse your hand off in the water, and when you come back, Napstablook is sitting with their forehead on their knees, slightly transparent.

Calling yourself a thousand kinds of coward; you shouldn’t be this scared of someone you’ve been friends with for a month, even someone who can apparently control the entire _ocean_ , you gather yourself before sitting down and pulling them into a hug. They jerk away- “No, I-I’ll burn you!”-but you shake your head against their shoulder, murmuring, “Sleeves pulled down over my hands”.

For a moment they lean against you, trembling slightly, and a quiet voice in the back of your mind wonders just how much magic it takes to control an entire ocean, even for a short amount of time. You know they're old, ancient even, and that _technically_ they're not really a Monster, but still. That's not just inhuman...that's unearthly. 

"That was terrifying Blooks...but thank you. Will you be okay?" You squeeze them as you say it, and they reach up to grip your arms in return. 

"I...lost my temper. But I'm okay...it's hard to...to restrain that much magic a-after you cast it out. That's all." 

You choke back an hysterical giggle at that, _oh it's not them CONTROLLING the ocean that made them tired, it's stopping themselves from doing anything with it that's the hard part, of course!_ and shift until they're leaning on your shoulder, your hands loosely clasped on the sand between you. After a while they sit up to kneel in the sand, sighing. They'd stopped trembling a minute ago, and now they just look tired and sad, unplugging various wires on the equipment behind you as you watch with interest. Suddenly they lift their head, squinting slightly, and you follow their gaze down the beach. Their pupils dilate and contract again, focusing further than you can see, and their hands tighten so hard around the metal bar they're holding, it starts to creak.

Far down, a small, frantic group had gathered before another line of people, and as you watch, police lights appear over the crest of the boardwalk there before officers come streaming down the dunes and start to grab people. It's too far to tell, and there' still too many people milling around here to get a clear view for more than a second or two, but something doesn't look right.

“Napstablook, what’s going on down there?” You whisper, getting a _very_ bad feeling from the way the group of people are running here and there as the police drag what must be more protestors kicking and screaming over the dunes. You can hear them this far away, even over the ocean's noise.

“More of those people...S-someone is using healing magic…a lot of it…”

Then they look up at you, their eyes huge even as you feel a lurch in your chest, like the sickening feeling right before you miss a step.

“…and s-someone just Fell...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader submitted OC's start in this chapter!
> 
> Origami the Gryphon is....Origami Gryphon! Thank you for letting me include your fursona as a beautiful, talented, lovely Gryphon Monster!
> 
> Other characters that weren't exactly OC submissions but were come up with my other people:
> 
> -Sam, Amiki's husband, is a Badger thanks to fluffybunnybadass
> 
> -and the two baby salamanders were thinked up by my best trashfriend, caelidra
> 
> Boy, Napstablook is so quiet and sweet. It almost makes you forget that even they don't know how old they are.


	18. You Can't Wash It Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) for lore, extras, and maybe the occasional (very bad) drawing!

_Fell..._

You scrabble to your feet as Napstablook urges you to hurry, slipping and stumbling in the soft sand as you run down the beach. The closer you get, the plainer it becomes that something is very, very wrong. Over the noise of twenty or thirty Monsters shouting at each other, at the police, and at the rioters, one voice rises clear and horrible; a high, keening wail that makes you instinctively grit your teeth. You're stalled by a crowd of humans milling about, watching the scene further down the beach and looking sacred, and it takes you a minute to get past them.

Finally, panting and clutching a sideseam, you get close enough to see in the scant moonlight, and...

A monster with a woman's torso and a long, scaled tail that joins at her waist is clutching at a pile of...of dirt?

Oh god, no. Not dirt...the realization is so horrible, it takes a few moments for it to register.

Dust.

Monsters turn into dust when they die, you remember. But this dust, it...it has tiny pieces of clothing in it, the size a toddler would wear...

...and now you can hear the group before you clearly.

"Child murderers!"

"She was only four!"

"You killed my NEICE!"

The Monsters, about thirty of them, all different ages, types and sizes, are screaming at the protesters as the police handcuff the black-clad humans and drag them away. The only thing keeping them from tearing the bigots apart is the line of police forcibly holding them back.

You gulp, and wonder if you should walk away before they see you and jump you from sheer association. But then you notice that, despite the Monster group's fury, the snake-tailed one is weeping alone as she tries to scoop the dust up and keep it from getting lost in the sand.

Something cold and ugly settles in your heart- no one deserves to go through something like this alone. The children and elderly of the group are shivering, and the mother is crying so hard she's silent. You can't do much; she might even refuse your help, but...you have a better chance of getting things out of the police than she does, being a human in this crowd of horror-stricken Monsters, and you've been managing crises for years now.

There’s no one else here to do it. You have to be

brave.

First things first; you drop your black jacket in the sand, teeth chattering in protest at the sharp winter chill off the ocean. You don't want to look anything like the protesters, dressed all in black as they are. Then, taking a deep breath, you walk up to a clump of police officers, picking one who has something friendly and sensible in his face, and gently tap him on the shoulder. He looks up from whatever he's writing, and you smile at him.

"Officer? I'm a...a friend of the family. Could we have some blankets for the children, and maybe a container? For the...ashes?"

He frowns at you, clicking his pen and putting it back in his breast pocket. "Ashes? Did they have a fire? You know fires are aren't allowed outside desig-"

You shake your head, cutting him off. You don't even have to fake tears; your next words bring them to your eyes unbidden.

"No sir, Monsters, they...turn to dust when they die. Like cremation, only it just...happens. Human doctors have confirmed it.”

His eyes widen as he realizes you're serious, more willing to believe a well-dressed human woman than the hysterical Monsters on the beach, and he pulls out his phone to do a quick search online. As you watch, he turns chalk-white.

"Jesus Christ, they were telling the truth…fellows, you'd best hold on a second. We've got a potential homicide here." He tucks his phone away, turns toward the other two men standing there, then turns back in a hurry. "Right, shock kits. Follow me, Miss...?"

"__________" you tell him, following him up the dunes and onto the pavement above, wincing as sharp rocks and shells dig into your feet. He clicks open the trunk of his vehicle and digs around for a moment, then surfaces with a big canvas case. In it, there's blankets, assorted medical supplies, and other miscellaneous emergency gear. You take the blankets and turn to leave, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

"Here, it's not much, but..."

He holds out an empty instant-coffee jar, having dumped the grounds out on the blacktop. "For the..." he waves his hand at the beach, his mouth tight. You take it, your hand shaking, and start down the beach. To your surprise; he follows, his grip tight on his belt.

"I didn't know they had babies." His voice is soft behind you. "My wife and I just had our first last month."

"Congratulations." The response leaves you automatically, your throat tight. The officer coughs.

"How old was...it?"

You sigh, swallowing a lump in your throat. God, you just want to go home and hide from all this, from these…injustices. "I don't know; from what I've learned, different Monsters age at different speeds." Thinking fast, you remember the size of the clothing covered in dust. "They were little though."

The officer sighs, kicking up sand as he follows you down the beach. "One of them tried to backhand the...mother. But they hit the baby; she had it in a sling on her chest. They're saying he broke its neck."

 _Oh god..._ You can't answer that, can barely see through the tears in your eyes. You'd wanted to help, but this is...It's too much. Too much in one day.

The Monsters freeze when they see you, but the officer speaks up before you can muster the courage. "Your friend here told us about the...the dust. We'll be needing statements from everyone; this is a homicide case now." Then he scuffs his feet for a moment, his voice tight. "We didn't know. We're sorry."

The group stares at the police officer, at you, for so long that your skin starts to crawl. Then to your surprise a truly ancient looking monster, his scales pale and his eyes milked over, slowly comes forward. He reaches one long-fingered hand out to the officer.

"Thank you."

Hesitantly, the officer reaches out and clasps his arm for a moment, his face wondering. In spite of yourself, you smile a tiny bit; you remember the first time you'd met a Monster up close too, how amazed you'd been. Even aged; the serpent-tailed Monster is impressive. 

After a moment, the officer steps back and clears his throat, gesturing at you. "She has emergency blankets for anyone who needs them, and a container for the..."

He trails off, but the Monsters understand. In a flash, the blankets are taken from your arms, and a tall, stately Monster with proudly-bare breasts and a furred body the color of coal sends another little Monster down to the water to rinse the coffee jar.

“If a person wasn’t here at the time of the actual incident, I’d suggest the person disappear before statements start being taken.” The officer’s voice is low in your ear, and you nod slightly in understanding. He heads back up the beach and that leaves you alone, shivering, and very worried about where Felix or anyone is.

"You have a very brave Soul to have done this." You jump with a squeak, and a surprisingly strong, gnarled hand grips your arm, steadying you. It's the old Monster, his blind eyes half closed as he stares past you. Shaking, you take a breath, then pat his hand.

"It just...seemed like the right thing to do, sir." Then, hoping you phrase this correctly, you ask, "Please, I'm not that familiar with all the types of Monsters. What, um...what type are you and your...?

"Great-great-granddaughter. And we are Nagas, girl. Water dwellers that just wanted a look at the stars with our friends tonight." The ancient Naga looks down, un-seeing eyes spilling over with tears. "It is so hard for us to have little ones...We are all that remain. Mem'nari was our hope for the future."

You clasp his hand with tears on your cheeks as well, not knowing what to say. You stand there with him for a moment, then catch sight of a dark shape down at the water that looks familiar.

The Naga must have a sight beyond eyes, because he drops you hand with a sigh. "Go to your lover. He did his best for us, but...it was too late. He needs his woman now."

You gape at him, wondering how he knew where you'd been looking and why, but he's already making his way slowly to the young mother Naga as she rocks the plastic jar of dust like a baby, sobbing. Wrenching away from the sight and sniffing, you rub your arms briskly, scoop up your jacket, and trudge down toward the waterline. Felix is kneeling on a rock outcrop, his jacket and sweater discarded beside him, and is using handfuls of sand to try to scour something off his fur that clings stickily.

Dust, you realize. 

“Fe?” You don’t know when the pet name was born, but you want to be as gentle as possible with him right this moment; the lines of his back are so tight under his tshirt, you can see it in the dim moonlight even from this scant distance. He doesn’t answer, but he does sit back and slouch slightly, his hands limp in his lap. Gently, you run your hand over his shoulder, unsure what to do. “Do you…need any help?” You’ve only been together for a day, been friends for a month…where are the rules for helping a new lover with washing a murder from his hands? What is ‘moving too fast’ when there’s a dead child involved?

He hesitates, then turns and presses his face to your leg, his ears flat against his skull.

“She was too far gone.” His voice is a broken whisper, cold and full of an old, tired anger. “I couldn’t…” He trails off, his eyes squeezed shut, and you crouch to hold him to you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

“Baby...I am _so_ sorry…”

You stay that way until your thighs are screaming, crouched as you are on the uneven rock, but you don’t dare pull away until Felix does first. Finally though, you feel him relax the slightest bit, and you stroke your hand down over the crown of his head. “Hey, the police officer said we should leave before they start taking statements. We’ll be here all night if we don’t; they’re treating it as a homicide now, they think.”

When he doesn’t move for a moment, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep that way; kneeling on the cold rock. Then he nods like he just knows it’s what he’s expected to do, and whispers, “I can’t drive. Keys are in my coat pocket.”

“No problem.” You rifle around until you find them, hesitate, and then press a kiss to his shoulder as he goes back to scrubbing silvery dust from his paws and arms. He leans back into the touch, turning his head slightly to bunt against your cheek, and then you set off back down the beach at a weary trot.

Napstablook had waited for you, holding your purse in one hand and your shoes in the other as the loading guys milled around waiting for their approval to leave. As you hurriedly put your shoes on, ignoring all the sand in the soles, you tell them the basics of what had happened, and they shake their head in sorrow. When you finish though, they turn away for a moment, then turn back.

“A-and you’re _sure_ the baby d-died while Felix was…was trying to heal it?”

Of all the questions to ask, that wasn’t what you’d expected. “What? Yes, I mean…yeah. That’s what everyone said there, like thirty people at least.”

Napstablook nods, but their face is...strange. “Okay. Okay, I’ll t-text you when I….when I get back. I have to m-make sure my equipment…is safe.”

Leaning over, you hug them tightly; they return it, and then you run up the beach and across the boardwalk to where Felix had parked. Thanking every god in history that your mother had taught you how to drive stick, you _carefully_ pull the (oh god oh god this is three years straight of my paycheck oh god) car out of its space, and drive it down to the parking lot closest to where Felix and the others were.

He’s waiting there, his back to a signpost while the police pointedly ignore his presence, and he doesn’t sit down so much as _falls_ into the passenger seat.

You aren’t sure what to do at this point. “So where would you, uh…”

“I don’t care. Anywhere. Your place is fine.”

His voice is clipped, the words terse…but you can’t blame him. “Alright.”

Driving carefully, you pull up to your apartment building and herd Felix inside, shivering as the wind picks up. He vanishes into your bathroom the moment you open your apartment door, and you’re left alone with the cold, heavy feeling in your heart that’s been building all night. After you feed Pudding, check your phone (missed call from your dad and a few texts), and aimlessly pick at some minute rice and beans, you give up and just settle onto the couch, not wanting to disturb Felix by walking through the bathroom into your bedroom.

You don’t even remember closing your eyes.

-

When someone touches your shoulder, you jerk awake, heart pounding.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, just me.”

Felix is kneeling next to you on the floor, sweatpants slung low under a clean tshirt. You try a smile on him, covering a yawn, and he leans in until he can snuggle up against your chest for a moment. Despite the awfulness of the night, it still makes your heart melt; he’s just so _soft._ Against the delicate skin of your chest, the tickly-tufts of fur around his ears are enough to make you giggle a little.

“Do you want to uh…come to bed?”

If you were any more awake, that would sound _far_ too intimate coming from a person you’d just started seeing. Not sexually, just…personally.

But you’re exhausted and scratchy in your current position, so you nod and sit up with a sigh. Your jeans, bra, and sweater get left in a trail across your floor, and when you finally collapse into bed with your back to Felix, he tucks his legs up against your bare ones and _sleeps_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pray that you don't, but...if ever you end up in a situation so hellish as these two are in, you'll understand how you can get SO close to a person SO quickly. 
> 
> It's easy to be frank and honest when there's people dying around you. 
> 
> ...
> 
> And so the Naga is bereft, the police are involved, and Felix is unable to save a dying child.


	19. Pawn to D3

Felix isn’t beside you when you wake the next morning, though his side of the bed is rumpled. When you listen, you can hear him talking softly out in your living room, his words clipped and tight.

“...assure you it was nothing like that, _your Majesty_.”

There’s a nastiness in his voice that you’ve never heard him use before when he says ‘your Majesty’, his volume rising slightly before dropping again. Slightly worried at whatever ugliness today has to offer, you get up and go in the bathroom, snagging a robe along the way. With the water running you can’t hear the words, but you _can_ hear when Felix bites out a short, shouted reply to whomever he’s talking to. Sighing, you finish brushing your teeth and cleaning up a bit, checking your own phone to see if there’s any other crises today to look forward to.

"...that things have changed. It isn't even a guarantee; you know that."

There are a few texts from friends, a message from the night manager that the holiday had gone smoothly, and the usual social media updates...you relax slightly. It still would have been nice to hear from your dad, but you hadn’t honestly expected it.

Steeling yourself, you step out of the bathroom just as Felix yells-

“...I CAN, and I WILL, barring any further interference, so _Is. That. Acceptable?_ ”

Oh, he’s pissed. And apparently very comfortable in your apartment, because your living room is a veritable explosion of paperwork with Felix ensconced in the middle, a top-of-the-line laptop open in front of him as he makes a gesture over his phone, ending the call through his earpiece. His tail lashes once behind him as he leans forward on his knees to rifle through a stack of forms, plainly searching for one. He swears, turns to another -no luck there either.

“Can I help?” You ask it gently, but it still makes Felix jump so hard he almost falls over, whirling to face you.

“Shit! Shit I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

You shake your head, walking toward him. “No, I was waking anyway. Is everything….alright well no, everything is obviously not okay. But is there anything I can do?”

Felix stares at you for a second, then shakes himself and looks around, thinking. “Mmmmmmm...aybe?”

He’s obviously not paying attention, drawing the word out as his eye is caught by something that pops up on his computer screen, and you can’t help but smile a little.

“Could I get you a drink?”

“Huh?” His eyes don’t leave the screen.

“Would you like something to drink?” You say it with exaggerated courtesy, grinning a little now.

“Oh yeah sure, please.”

“I have coffee, tea, juice, water…?”

“...”

Felix is staring at the wall, obviously not paying a lick of attention.

“ _Mister Constellation,_ what do you want to drink?”

He jerks around, eyes widening slightly. “ _No_...no, where did you learn that?” You give him your sweetest smile, repeating, “Coffee, tea, juice, or water?”

“C-coffee, but no hey, wait!”  

You twist out of his reach, muttering, “A difficult birth, but it was worth it,” as you walk into the kitchen and put the kettle on. A scrabbling behind you, followed by a ‘whoosh’ of falling paper and a thud hints that Felix’s efforts to come after you weren’t quite as successful as he’d hoped.

It’s...it’s something, that’s for sure. To see Felix in ratty old sweatpants and a grungy t-shirt, reading glasses low on his nose as he talks in his Professional Voice, surrounded by what must be quite literally reams of paper. It makes you feel small somehow, this reminder that Felix is a _very_ wealthy, _very_ successful attorney. Not just your funny, handsome boyfriend, but…

Someone important. Not only important with Monsterkind, but socially, academically…Felix is much higher on the ‘foodchain’ than you.

It’s discomforting. You’re a subowner of a relatively large hotel, yes, but only by virtue of inheritance and hard work. You never finished your degree. You live in a small apartment, with one fat cat and a sofa that you found on the side of the road somewhere. You’re not stunningly beautiful, or particularly charismatic, you’re just…

You.

And worse, much worse- Felix is _royalty_ . Or practically royalty; the ‘inheritor of the Constellation clan’, Doggo had said. Royalty enough that he’d spoken to Queen Toriel as an equal, that day in his office. You saw it yesterday too; he knew _everyone_ , and everyone knew him _._ Every single Monster you’d passed had nodded to him, or called out a greeting. Some even bowed their heads slightly, or stepped out of his way respectfully. He hadn’t noticed; of course he hadn’t. It had probably been that way all his life. But you’d noticed.

He’s ‘better’ than you. More important that you.

It isn’t a heartbreaking realization, just a small, sad one. You won’t be able to keep him. He might care for you now, but things change. People have to step into the places society sets for them.

You hadn’t realized how much you cared for him, until this moment. How much he means to you.

Then, cursing and shaking a scrap of paper off his arm, he stumbles into the kitchen, and you push all those thoughts down with a sad nod to fate. You can’t stop what will happen; he’ll leave you. He’ll _have_ to.

But you have him for now.

So you turn, plastering a fake smile on your face, and it’s easy to turn it into a real one as Felix stands there with a suspicious eye fixed on you.

“Where did you hear that.”

You raise an eyebrow, turning back to add coffee to the press. “Hear what?”

Then strong arms wrap around you, and a deep voice murmurs, “About my family?” in your ear, making you shiver.

“Around. But even if no one ever told me, I’d have guessed you were...important.” Damn it, you hadn’t meant to say it like that. Hadn’t meant to mention what you’d been thinking at all. You try to distract him by turning in his arms, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw, but Felix leans back, a very strange look in his eye.

“Did they give you grief because of me?”

You frown; he sounds _angry,_ though not at you. “What? No, who...what do you mean?”

His face softens- he takes a step back, cupping your cheek gently in his paw. “If anyone said anything to you, I’ll stop it. You don’t have to cover for them, no one can hurt you while you’re with me..”

He looks so...understanding, so kind. But it’s fake; you know him well enough to recognize something is off. His pupils are pinpoints, his posture deceptively straight. Normally Felix is a sloucher, or a leaner.

Slowly, realization dawns on you.

“Felix...no one is threatening me, I promise. Doggo told me about your family the other day, but I hadn’t realized exactly what he’d said until last night, on the boardwalk. That’s all.”

You hold his eyes with your own, willing him to believe you; you don’t like that sudden heaviness in the air around you, a directionless _pressure_ originating from Felix. “I promise. No one is bothering me- well, not about you at least.” Then you reach for him, stepping closer to put your arms around his waist, your mind racing.

_‘Did that happen to him before? Was he with someone before, that was forced to leave him?’_

He sighs, and pulls you against him hard. “Tell me if they do,” he says quietly, his chin resting on your head. “And you don’t need to...think I’m someone important. Really, it’s-”

You cut him off. “You _are_ important. Related to the royal family, an attorney, the youngest graduate of your University, _did I mention royalty_...and what am I?” You can’t help the bitterness that creeps into your voice then; it’s too early for you to be good at lying yet.

To your surprise, Felix _laughs._ It hurts, and he must feel you stiffen, because he instantly draws back to look you in the eye. “You...oh my Stars, you’re serious. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath, smoothing the laughter from his face. “Kitten...alright, since we’re just talking stupid Monster customs here. Besides the fact that you own a successful hotel that subcontracts its catering and entertainment services all over this side of the country-” he stops to nod at your astonished look “-oh yes, I learned that about you. Besides all of that...you provide a safe place for Monsters, a safe place to work and earn a living. When you discovered they were being targeted, you _immediately_ and publicly took action to protect them. But! Most of all, you claimed the Monsters working at your hotel under _your care._ Yours specifically. Not the hotel’s, or the management's.”

You look down, embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have...they don’t technically work for me specifically.”

“But you _claimed_ them.” Felix says it like an explanation, but you still have no idea what he means by that.

“I’m sorry...I don’t understand.”

Then you jump slightly, because the kettle starts whistling, but Felix just reaches around you and flips the stove off, putting it onto a different burner. “Maybe if you went back three hundred years or so, you’d start to understand all this. See, for a very long time, it was understood that those 'higher up' were bound by an...an honor code, of sorts. The people below them did good work for them, and in return, received protection. Were guaranteed meals, loaned money if they were short...things like that.”

You purse your lips. “Maybe in Monster-world, where everyone is a good person and actually cares about others...humans have never been like that.”

Felix shakes his head. “Sure they were. Back when you all had estates, lands...royalty. Things like that."

Rolling your eyes, you go to step around him, only for him to reach out and pull you back. "I'm not royal, Felix...royalty doesn't exist like that anymore. At least not in this country."

His eyes are intent on you. "But  _Monsters_ have royalty, don't we? We have a succession of royals, including branch families, that has continued for a long, long time. You already know I'm part of one. Some other Monsters are too. After we were driven under the mountain, those lines of Royalty became people to look up to. We lost any privileges we might have had, and instead, became responsible for the well-being of those who once were 'under us', you could say. Now-" he shakes you gently "- do you not provide meals to your employees, both during working hours AND when they’re just passing through?”

You nod hesitantly.

“And did you not provide at least three Monster families with lodging, free of charge, because they lost their leases while one of their family was employed by you?”

You squirm; his gaze is eerily intent. “Well yes, but we offer that to _all_ our employees-”

“-AND did you not publicly take the Vacarello family to court for repeated charges of harassment and actionable threats, and _win_?”

You throw your hands up, twisting away from him. “Only because you were my attorney!”

Felix grins. “It doesn’t matter! By Monster definition, you’ve become a haven...no, that’s not right. A...harbor? Refuge, asylum, shelter…a _sanctuary_. There, that’s it. You’ve become a sanctuary, socially and economically. Why do you think you got so many applications from Monsters?”

You blush, looking down at your feet. “Because we offer good medical insurance?”

He laughs outright, reaching for you and snagging the belt of your robe. “Monsters don’t _need_ medical insurance you silly thing. Monsters need safety, kindness. Humans can at least survive in a hostile work environment; Monsters will literally die from it. It’s like your cancer; it eats us from the inside out. Monsters can feel a person’s care for them like a physical sensation.” He puts his paw under your chin and tilts your head up, kissing you gently.

“Monsters came to work for you because you _care._ Because you love them -no don’t get like that, I don’t know why you humans are so strange about that word. You love them enough that you would do violence for them; I saw you, when Mistress Fleetfoot was trying to thrall Amala Vaccarello out of the room. You almost hit the woman, you even had your hand raised.”

He sounds so proud, you can’t even bring yourself to be ashamed. “She deserves a lot more than being hit!”

“And so she does. Kitten, you love Monsters. You appreciate them, and give them a place where they’re important. We’re not like humans. We don’t forget. We _never_ forget. Never forgive, never forget. We can’t.”

"There's lots of other places out there hiring Monsters...I'm nothing special..." You want  _so badly_ to believe him, but there's that ugly voice at the back of your head whispering doubts.

He works his fingers down through your belt to get a better grip on you, but he’s staring at the floor. “Do you know, I’d heard about the Stained Glass Inn even when I was in school?"

It's such a non sequitur- you blink at him, wondering what he's getting at.

"There were rumors that this hotel, some old- (“Hey!”) -some _colonial_ inn that was renovated into a hotel in the center city, was hiring Monsters. People wondered what the owners were playing at; trying to win the pity card? Or maybe to take advantage of whatever inevitable affirmative action laws would be passed for Monsters. Only a few people said it could be because you actually _cared_ , were actually good people. We debated it in three different classes. I...I debated for the affirmative action side.”

His face is chagrined when he chances a look at you, then drops his eyes again.. “I did my final project on you and your family. By the end of it...I wanted to meet you so badly. I spent so much time researching you; I knew you were more than just a 'manager'. Your father’s picture was on the front page of your website, but you were in almost every social media photo. Working, not just standing there; there’s this one, you have your jacket off and you’re just in this little wispy blouse and skirt, bending over a table with flour on your arm because the kitchen was short staffed…”

He sighs, looking sheepish, as if he hadn’t just blown you away with the longest and most sincere compliment you’ve ever received in your life. “And now I have this chance to...to date you? To get to know you? I keep thinking it’s a trick, that I’ll wake up, or something will go wrong.”

You can’t help it; you pull him down and kiss him, blushing. When you break apart, your throat’s tight- you try anyway.

“That’s alright...we went to Summit Civil Rights because...because I saw you on the news. Intelligent and handsome, and so...put together. You give off charm like a pretty smell when you want to, you know that right? So confident. That’s why we called you guys; I wanted someone like you, because I knew you’d do a good job for me. After those first few days,I liked to think that we’d work well together, me and you. I was going to try and hire you on retainer, after all of this was taken care of. Just to have you around.”

There’s too much emotion in the room for 9am. Felix’s face is carefully blank, but his eyes are wide.

But you can’t stop yourself, your mouth keeps running.

“And then last night...god, walking around with you. You know _everyone_ , don’t you? Every single Monster there knew you by sight; don’t think I didn’t notice. You were asking about their families, their businesses; I never even _realized_ how much you do everyday. I don’t think _you_ even realize it! And then with those poor Naga...of _course_ you went to them. Of course you tried to help. You were probably the first person there, probably went running the second you saw something was wrong.”

Felix ducks his head, hiding a smile. “You were there too.”

You shake your head, clutching at his shirt. It feels like you  _have_ to make him understand this; there's always this subtle self-disparagement in his voice whenever he talks about himself, and it irks you far more than it probably should.

“I was just there because I saw something was wrong. But...Felix, you’re just...so important. You’re so important.”

You shut yourself up, ending lamely before you can tack the ‘to me’ at the end. _You’re so important to me._

Then you wince because, somehow, your voice had just done the same echo you’ve heard Felix’s and others do before. Echoed in the way Monster’s do sometimes, when they aren’t sure of a word and go with the best option.

Felix rocks back on his heels, raising his head and looking down at you through his lashes. It’s almost a come-hither; it bares his neck slightly, even as he stares at you. When the silence goes too long, you wilt a little and look at your feet, “Sorry for...going on like that.”

“We’ll have to come back to the fact that you can use All-Speak at another time, because…”

He closes the distance between you fast, kissing you and lifting you onto the counter by the stove in one fluid movement, one paw behind you and one holding you hand, trapped between your chests. It starts out hard, a crashing of teeth and lips and tongue, but slows into something deeper, something warm and secure as snow softly begins to fall outside the window behind you. You pull away for a moment, nipping his lip; he groans and drops his head to your neck, kissing down to the dip of your collarbone. He whispers something into the softness of your skin, then raises his head again to look you in the eye.

“You think you aren’t important...but you _are._ ”

You open your mouth, to say...something, but at the same moment, Felix’s phone starts ringing. Seeing the apology in his eyes, you cut him off before he can speak- “Go answer that, in case it’s important. It’s alright.”

He leans in and presses the gentlest of kisses to your forehead, then jogs out and grabs his phone. You turn back to the neglected coffee and get the water into the press with two cups beside it, before Felix calls you. When you turn, he holds the phone away from his face and draws something in the air over it, then says, “The Monsters from yesterday...the Naga family, and their cousins. They’d like to rent one of your ballrooms for the funeral. The mother fell this morning.”

“She fell?” You feel a flush rising in your cheeks. “Tell me the police did something…”

Felix shakes his head, his lips pressed in a tight line. “It was grief, someone apparently got a picture of them last night and posted it online with a caption. “A Monster dies...but why should we care?”

You blink, split between the personal side of you feeling sick with pity, and the professional side debating if the hotel can afford to do something you’d be planning in the back of your mind for sometime….

“They’re welcome to rent the forest room, but they don’t need to pay. Fees; room, cleaning, setup, flowers, and luncheon if they want it, will be absorbed by the hotel. Rooms can be assigned at a discount for any travelers, and we’ll get them set up in a block that can be protected. They’ll need to contact me today to discuss any particular materials or officials that they’ll need...”

Felix stares at you, then slowly, understanding dawns on his face. “And of course, they should feel free to tell as many people as possible to come, right? Spread the word that your hotel is doing this, free of charge?”

You shrug genteelly, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.“They’re more than welcome to talk about their impressions of the Stained Glass Inn; I can’t stop people from _talking_ , can I? And if it happens to make it into the newspaper that a funeral is being held for a _murdered_ _baby_ , and that the mother passed this morning, much to the grief of her ailing grandfather…”

You take a sip, mind racing even as you drop into your ‘business voice’. “Since the funeral is being held at a very old hotel in the city, _famous_ for having been bought by indentured immigrants in the 1800’s and being an important part of the underground railroad to free slaves...well, it’s not much of a jump of the imagination to say that the owners are sympathetic to the plight of the family, or of Monsters in general. Even more so if, say...a Monster of high rank were to be there?”

You look at Felix then, feeling the pieces of this plan fall neatly into place. “Especially a Monster who weren’t _royalty_ exactly, but more...a common hero, someone who’s well known in human AND Monster circles…and of course, we’d want to invite the police who were there, and personally thank them for their service. That high-ranking Monster would almost be _required_ to do that, and to tearfully relate the story of the child dying...wouldn’t that just make such a statement?”

Felix eyes you with extreme distrust, even as a smile plays on the corners of his lips.

“You’re going to make me dress up, aren’t you.” It isn’t a question.

Your answer is a predatory grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com), where we discuss the joys of playing The Game.
> 
> There's a line in here that references, obscurely, the best fanfiction I've ever read in my life. If you catch it, I swear to the Gods I will send you a trophy (cae doesn't count, she already knows).


	20. Webs and Quiet Rebellions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come, naughty children, and chat with me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> And HOLY FUCK MOM [look at this fucking animation by atsuyuri-sama](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com/post/145425426921/atsuyuri-sama-a-sort-of-scene-from-the-amazing) I'm just...so honored. Talk about an AMAZING first fanart, like...I am floored! Thank you so much!

Felix leaves after inhaling some cereal, promising to clean up the hurricane of paperwork in your living room once he finishes all he has to do for his part in the funeral. He’d been distracted ever since the phone call, muttering about dress clothes and speeches, and dashes out your door with a quick kiss. You cringe when it slams, snorting when a “Sorry!” echoes down the hallway outside, and take a quick shower.

Wrapped in a ratty old robe, your hair up in a towel and a toothbrush hanging from your mouth, you set up shop on your bed, spreading all your contact lists and references around you. You have the emails to the hotel sent out and a confirmation from Doggo that he’ll be there, and had just texted Novi for fun (you’ve become good friends over the past few weeks), when your phone rings.

It’s the Monster woman from yesterday, the tall, coal-colored one who’d only worn a hip wrap. It takes you a moment to recognize her voice, until you realize she was the one who took the coffee jar from you. 

She’s brisk but polite, explaining what they’ll need in terms of seating and area, and expressing bitter anger that they wouldn’t be allowed to complete an ocean-side part of the service, apparently integral to their tradition. You jot down notes- asking about the order of the service, if they’ll need any officiators, if they’ll need any staff- then take a breath.

“The Stained Glass Inn would like to offer the rental and catering services free of charge. It’s important to us, as a company, to support members of our community who are living the lives our forefathers did. If you have an email, I can send you information on room blocks; there’s a 25% discount for groups over 20, and-”

“We don’t want  _ charity.”  _

The Monster spits the word, her voice tight and angry through the phone. You’d expected that. What you  _ didn’t  _ expect was the voice in the background, an older female’s sharp whisper.

“ _ What, you’re so rich you can pass up free food? If the human is offering, take it! Don’t be a stupid Selkie!” _

They argue back and forth for a moment, the phone rustling as if the first Monster had tried to cover the receiver with her hand. You wait, typing up an itinerary for your staff; this is common for big events like a funeral. If you let the family fight it out, they usually end up making the sensible choice. 

After a minute, the Selkie Monster uncovers the phone and clears her throat, her voice overly-polite.

“Miss? Yes, We would be  _ happy  _ to take advantage of your offer then. I have an email, when you’re ready…”

She gives it, and after a few more minutes of questions and a second offer that’s met with far more enthusiasm, you end the call. Rubbing your eyes, you think hard. This whole thing will be tricky; you have twenty-four hours to pull off a very pointed social statement, if you can get it all together. 

You  _ will  _ get it all together. 

Felix calls you that night; he won’t make it back if the funeral is supposed to be tomorrow evening; he has too much to get together. You assure him that it’s alright, chatting for a few minutes about the service as you shake out cramped fingers. You’d been on your computer or phone the entire day, from nine in the morning until ten at night. But you have tomorrow planned out as best as you could, with all the pieces hopefully in place. 

You hang up, smiling, and hold your hand out to Pudding as she saunters up to the couch, her tail a happy curl behind her.

“Yeah, you’re thrilled with all of this, aren’t you? Mommy home all day, papers all over the floor to lay on…”

Your phone pings; it’s the newspaper, saying how thrilled they’d be to cover the story you’d provided them as you stroke Pudding. She climbs into your lap as you run over the next day again and again in your head. 

Monster funerals are very simple affairs, you’ve gathered. Between the Selkie and the guidebook Felix keeps harassing you to check more, you think you have a good handle on the way of things. 

Monsters are less religious than humans- more animistic than theistic, and their last rites reflect that. The remaining family, if there is any, returns the remains to the Monster’s ancestral home, be that water or land, or even volcanoes if possible (in the case of fire elementals, anyway). Words are said, other bits and pieces are added depending on the age and ‘nobility’ of the Monster’s kind, and the whole thing is followed by a meal. 

So, with thanks from the Naga after you’d convinced the Selkie to ask him, you’d planned more than just the usage of the ballroom for the ‘public’ service. With the brief bit of knowledge you have on the family’s history, you’d offered your own childhood home’s backyard for the ‘family’ part of the service. There’s a stream there that flows directly to the ocean, and you hope it will do spirits of the baby and her mother at least some justice. Your father hadn’t answered his phone yet, but honestly...it’s your house too, for all that his new wife acts like it isn’t. You can have ‘friends’ over to the backyard.

Stretching, you get up and wander into the kitchen to get a drink and feed your cat, your phone in your pocket. When it buzzes, you dig it out-

**_Felix- I know we just hung up, but I miss you...got used to having you around at night._ **

Your heart squeezes, and you look away from the phone, stifling the giddiness in your chest.  _ You’re being stupid!  _ you think to yourself.  _ It’s just a nice little text, you’ll scare him off if you get all emotional too soon. _

But you care about him so much it almost hurts you. He’s handsome. He irritates you then makes you laugh, often within the same breath. He’s kind to people, polite, intelligent…

**_Sent 10:56- I miss you too :/ Tomorrow is going to be a long day...I’m glad you’ll be there. I wouldn’t want to do this alone._ **

**_Felix- You don’t ever have to be alone!_ **

**_Felix- If you don’t want to I mean_ **

**_Felix- Stars, that came out wrong_ **

**_Felix- Didn’t mean to be creepy, sorry_ **

The first text comes fast, like a knee-jerk reaction. The others follow one after another, as if he’s afraid the first would scare you off, and you sit down on the floor of your kitchen, giggling at your sap of a Cat.

**_Sent 11:01- S’not creepy...thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me :)_ **

**_Felix- I think I have some idea :)_ **

You let your head fall back, smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. A slight pain on your shoulder makes you look down; you’d forgotten that Felix had left a mark there, a little bruise that you’d refused to let him heal…

Pudding meows regally, making you jump and almost throw your phone across the room. She’s sitting at the edge of the kitchen tiles, glaring at this silly human girl who’s giggling like a teenager over texts from a sweetheart instead of feeding her, and you huff out a breath. 

“Yes, your majesty.”

As you dump out a can for your fat little cat, your phone buzzes again.

**_Felix- Is there anything I need to know for tomorrow, besides the usual? Mona called me, so I know the wheres and whens. Remind me to kiss you for that tomorrow, by the way._ **

You swear under your breath; how had you forgotten to tell him?

**_Sent 11:14- Crap, I’m sorry! I completely forget to tell you about going to my old place! I don’t know exactly what part you’ll be playing tomorrow, I don’t have a step by step list of what will go on...I just do the food and furniture ;)_ **

You expect him to push for more information, but all you get back is a-

**_Felix- It’s alright kitten, you were busy.  Mona told me. Good night ^^_ **

Oh god he signs his texts with  _ cat-ears _ , it’s too cute! You get yourself under control enough to answer him, then throw yourself onto your bed, squeezing your pillow and squeaking into it for a second. Then, giggling still, you start to clear off enough bedspace to sleep in. After a while, Pudding hops up to join you, and you fall asleep with a smile.

\-----

Your phone buzzing on your dresser wakes you around 8, and you grab for it blearily. 

**_Felix- I’m SO sorry, I forgot to say- wear white and black today, but...if you want to match me, or sort of...be associated with me, then wear some purple and silver too._ **

**_Felix- I’d like it if you did._ **

Black, purple, and silver...god, you don’t have  _ anything  _ that fits that exactly. Nothing good enough for a funeral at least.

**_Sent 8:03- I don’t know if I own anything like that, I’ll have to look :(_ **

You throw yourself out of bed and start digging through your closet- no luck there. Just as you start on your dresser, your phone goes off again.

**_Felix- Can you be ready by 8:45?_ **

**_Sent 8:16- Oh god, maybe. Ready for what, how nice do I have to look?_ **

**_Felix- Just shower, you can even wear your pajamas. Go to this address, tell them your name._ **

**_Sent 8:17- Okay but why?_ **

**_Sent 8:19- Baby, what’s going on_ **

**_Sent 8:25- You rotten cat, what are you up to_ **

He doesn’t answer you, and a hurried glance at the clock shows you only have  _ twenty minutes _ . You shriek a little, bolt into the bathroom and barely bless yourself with a shower, jam yourself into leggings and a t-shirt, and run down to your car, typing the address he’d given you into your GPS. 

When you screech into the parking lot at exactly 8:46, you throw yourself out of your car and jog into the fancy little shop without looking at the sign, the bell tinkling above the door.

“Oh, my dear! What lovely little treat you are!”

You  _ know  _ you’re staring, but you can’t help yourself. There’s a...a lady, a Monster lady with six arms and too many eyes, propped behind a counter with her chin in one hand and a wicked gleam in her eye. 

“Um-”

“No time for ums! You must be ______, yes? I’ve heard plenty of gossip about you! Come here sweetling, come right back here!”

She steps out and starts ushering you toward the back of the store (clothing, now that you look around; boutique clothing, and  _ expensive-looking _ ), but you dig your heels in, your eyes wide and a scared sound in your throat. 

The store is  _ covered  _ in spiders. 

Big spiders, small spiders, tiny spiders. Some the size of a cat, others barely the size of a dime. They’re on the clothing, the walls, the floor; they scuttle out from under the Monster’s feet as she tries to get you moving again. 

“No...nononono…” You don’t exactly have a phobia, but ANY sane person would be freaked out by this. “No, ma’am please, I can’t…”

A gentle, clawed hand grips your chin, forcing you to face the Monster beside you. “Some are Monsters sweet, not normal spiders like you’re used to. The smaller ones work for them. They won’t bite you, or get all over you, or hurt you or get in your hair.” 

She’d dropped some of the playfulness in her tone; her voice is soft, her black. button-eyes gentle somehow. 

“They’ve forgotten how to speak over the centuries, but they’re just as smart as you or I. They aren’t mindless animals.”

You close your eyes, pressing your lips together as you take a deep breath. “I’m sorry...It’s just not what I’m used to…”

The Monster smiles, smoothing your hair from your face. “We don’t mind. You’re being very polite, even compared to some Monsters! My name is Muffet. Your man called me; he has a gown commissioned for you, but we need your measurements if we’re to finish it in time. Could you follow me?”

Under her breath, she makes the slightest hissing sound; more a vibration in the air than anything else. The spiders nearest you and around a screened area at the back turn and move out of the way, leaving a spider-free area. 

You frown as you follow her, doing your best not to look at the spiders. “Felix...paid for a dress for me?”

Muffet shakes her head, giggling slightly as she gathers up things in her arms. “He paid for a  _ gown  _ for you. A formal gown. He can afford it, don’t worry.”

You frown- the two of you will need to talk about this later -and bite your lip, stealing yourself. “Can the other...spiders, can they understand me?”

She turns to look at you, a funny expression on her face. “Within reason, yes.”

You have to ask. “And you’re  _ sure  _ they won’t bite me?”

“Only if I tell them to!”

You stare at her, unsure if she’s being serious, but after a moment, she sighs and rolls her eyes. “They won’t, they won’t. Why?”

Taking a deep breath, you crouch down, and offer your hand to a bigger spider...no, the  _ Spider _ ,  that had been watching the two of you with more intelligence in his eyes than most. He’s impressive- stark white stripes in the black fur covering his body, his eyes a ringed by silver and his claws tipped in the same. 

“Hi...my name is ______. Please don’t bite me.”

Muffet makes a quiet sound of surprise, but you don’t dare turn away. All your attention is on the Spider, and on keeping your hand steady, because  _ damn  _ if you’re not going to be afraid of someone just because they look scary. The Spider picks up a claw, cocking its head to the side, then takes a step forward. You shudder,  then smile, and after a moment, he walks up to place a claw in your palm. It’s harder than you’d expected; like a horse's hoof. He hisses something, and Muffet speaks up behind you, her voice thoughtful.

“He says you have beautiful hair. And good eyes, though not enough of them.”

Your smile grows easier; you can do this. Just don’t look at his mouthparts. 

“Tell him I said thank you, please? It’s nice to meet him.”

Muffet does, the sibilance raising the hair on the back of your neck. The Spider squeaks, nods to you, then turns and races off.

“I wonder where he’s going...well, no time, no time! Come here!”

The next twenty minutes are a whirl of measuring and posing; Muffet has you out of your outer clothing and standing in front of a mirror before you know it, dashing around you and wrapping a knotted cord around every part of you imaginable. She’s so quick and efficient, it doesn’t even occur to you to be self conscious until she’s done and handing you back your clothes, muttering under her breath. You get dressed, but before you can put on your t-shirt, you feel a tap on your leg.

You look down then stifle a noise- spiders that big are just scary, no matter how friendly. It’s the Spider from earlier, with a bundle of something shimmery and delicate held in one of his claws. He hisses something, and Muffet translates. 

“He says you may have this; he just made it himself. To work into your gown; it is made of...K’tsh, are you sure?”

That last comment is directed at the Spider, not you, and he nods, hissing louder. Muffet raises her eyebrows, turning back to you. “It... is a skein of thread, made of Quicksilver. The thread….the fabric... is priceless. Few Spiders know how to make it anymore. It’s  _ very  _ rare, and very strong. Take good care of it.”

The Spider bounces slightly, holding it up, but you put your hands up and take a step back. “Oh no, please, I can’t. Thank you so much, but I can’t take something so valuable…”

Muffet grips your shoulder, speaking quietly. “It’s very rude to refuse a gift from a Monster. K’tsh is one of the last Spiders able to spin Quicksilver, and he is impressed with you. You are the first human to ever willingly meet a Spider yet, much less not run screaming, and...we have heard things.”

When you blink at her, confused, she shrugs daintily. “Call it advertising! Once upon a time, we would have had rich families lined up for months to purchase Quicksilver work. Now, people can see that we’re selling again.”

You reach down with shaking fingers and take it from him, letting it pool out of your hands like water . It’s beautiful; the thread so fine you can barely see it, and cold to the touch. Even as you hold it, it doesn’t warm up. 

“It will never degrade, or tear. You cannot cut it or...” Muffet’s face is gentle. “Precious, you look like you’re about to cry. What’s wrong?”

You sniff; you hadn’t even realized your eyes had been filling. “I’m just...not used to getting things like this. Thank you so, so much. I’ll keep the dress forever; hell, if it really never breaks down, I’ll strip it from the dress and make sure my kids get it someday. They’ll know where it came from, I promise.”

To your surprise, the Spider steps back, and bows low. Then he turns and ambles out, chattering with the other spiders and Spiders that gather around him. 

“Well...that’s quite the honor that you’ve given him. The gossip is true about you.”

When you whirl to look at her, she smiles secretly and takes the thread from your hands, weighing it carefully. “ Ah ah! No questions! Now about your gown…”

You nod, waiting. Muffet has a very sneaky look on her face. “Master Constellation mentioned it is for a funeral, so it must be predominately white with some black. But he also mentioned that he will be there as castellan of the royal family, and that you are his...lover. So you should be wearing his colors, at least a little. How close are you?”

The question takes you off guard; you’d been trying to remember what the word ‘castellan’ meant. “Well...we just started dating on Christmas. But we’ve been friends for a while, and-”

“Do you care about him?”

“Oh my gosh, yes, he’s just so...sweet, and gentle, and smart-”

“Do you know his Soul?”

You glance at her, but her expression gives you no clue as to what she means. “Well, I mean...I accidentally touched it once, I still feel so bad about that too...he just  _ felt  _ so...so sad…”

You trail off, looking for the words. “I know I shouldn’t have; Napstablook told me a little about Souls...but he just felt so lonely, you know? Like I should just wrap him up and keep him somewhere safe...”

Muffet’s face is a study as she looks you over, alien-eyes unreadable. “And...do you have family colors? Or symbols, a crest of sorts?”

You think hard; you’re still a little sleepy, and distracted thinking about what you’d seen that night. “Not really...humans don’t really do things like that.”

You yawn hugely, covering your mouth and looking away, so you miss it when Muffet stares right at your chest for a moment. 

“Actually deary...I think I know everything I need to.” She pats you on the shoulder. “You’ll be pleased! Go get ready for your day, your gown will be ready by eleven.”

You whip around to stare at her sputtering, “By eleven? That’s barely an hour and a half, how can you possibly-”

Muffet puts a finger to her lips, smiling. “Shoo.”

You waver. Muffet grins at you, showing fangs.

You flee, waving to K’tsh as you pass. He waves back, already clambering over something that looks like a very large loom. When you get to your car, you check your phone; confirmations of that day’s plans are pouring in. Catering is ready, the room is prepared, the other arrangements you made are set to go…

Catching a look at yourself in the mirror, you grimace. After all the work you did to have the newspaper come out and all, you probably shouldn’t show up with your hair in whatever mess you usually throw it up in for work. Biting your lip, you pull up Novi’s number and call her.

“Hey, are you free? I need hair help…”

You stop at the store on the way home, picking up a few things, including hair pins and spray like she’d requested. When you pull into your space she’s already there, playing on her phone and leaning against her car. 

“Thank you so much, I don’t know what I would have done…”

She laughs, reaching out to take the store bag from you and check its contents. “It’s no problem at all. What’s the occasion?”

You tell her about the funeral as the two of you walk up to your apartment, about your plans. You’re surprised when she hugs you suddenly, making you drop your keys.

“Thank you.” 

Her face is serious, her ears straight and pointed toward you. She repeats herself- “Thank you so much.”-then gets your keys off the floor for you and hands them over. “You can’t possibly know how much this means to us...to all of us.”

Shrugging, you push into your apartment and toe Pudding out of the way. “It’s just a charitable donation...we offer it to any civil servants who pass in the line of duty…”

“Many stores won’t even  _ serve  _ Monsters. We don’t qualify for government benefits, we can’t find work, most charities don’t care about us one way or the other...” Novi flaps her paws at you. “Go wash your hair, and know that this Rabbit is proud to be your friend.”

You duck your head to hide a smile, digging around in the store bag. You’d found a haircare line that used essential oils for scent, rather than artificial chemicals; Felix’s comment the other morning had stuck with you, for all that he’d said it kindly. Giving up your usual shampoo is a small compromise to make for your Cat. 

Throwing a prayer out to whatever God wants to hear it, you hope with all your might that tonight goes as planned. You still hadn’t heard back from your father, but you know he’d be just fine with what you have in mind. His wife...well, she can deal with it.

And above all, you pray that this stupid,  _ senseless  _ violence stops.   
You never want to plan a funeral for a baby again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felix is the type of boyfriend that you have to be VERY careful not to say 'oh that looks pretty' about something in the store around. 
> 
> Because he WILL buy it and give it to you, along with every other thing you stop to look at for longer than two seconds.


	21. Regalia Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna know where I've been, and wanna hear a sad tale of woe...come visit me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com). Sorry for the delay, beauties. Life's just gone to shit recently.

**_Doggo- there’re protestors outside._ **

You swear under your breath as you wait at a light, tapping your nails on your phone's screen. You’d gotten caught up talking to Novi, and so are over an hour late to pick up your gown from Muffet.

**_Sent 12:53- Can you get rid of them, are they on our property?_ **

**_Doggo- nah, they know better. sidewalk._ **

Fuck….fucking  _ fucks,  _ of course they’re there! After all the work to make this at least an easier day for the Selkie family, of  _ course  _ those absolute pieces of shit came.

**_Sent 12:57- Which ones are they?_ **

You pull into Muffets, careful not to jostle your hair from where Novi had swept it prettily up off your neck, and stomp in irritably. 

**_Doggo- the usual. all black clothes, ‘back where they belong’s. i can tell you where i think THEY belong._ **

That makes you grin, at least. You take a deep breath, smiling at the spiders when you step through the door, and look around for Muffet.

“Precious! Your hair looks  _ lovely _ , very tasty….or tasteful, rather!”

Hoping she’s kidding (you’re mostly sure she’s kidding), you smile at Muffet.

“Ms. Novi of Snowden did it for me. She’s a good friend.”

“I’m sure she is! Now come here, come here…”

Muffet flaps her hands at you, steering you toward a corner of the shop full of various pieces of clothes, some finished and some not. At the back, in the middle of a cleared-out area, is an  _ intimidatingly  _ expensive-looking gown…dress….thing. 

“I see your face…you think it’s too much for a funeral.”

It’s phrased like a question, but Muffet doesn’t say it as one, and you look away guiltily. You’d been thinking  _ exactly  _ that. She places a gentle, clawed hand on your shoulder, and you look up into her strange, alien-looking eyes.

“If you are going as a partner to Felix Constellation, you will held to the expectations of his station, not just your own. In this, he will be acting as nobility  _ and  _ clergy, and it is expected that he dress that part. It would be disrespectful for him  _ not  _ to dress well…it would be like showing up in jeans to a human funeral, I believe.”

Chewing your thumbnail, you stare at the dress- it makes sense, phrased that way. Muffet sees the acquiescence on your face, and nods. 

“You understand now, good. Also understand…you are his partner, and have taken on a  _ very  _ traditional role for this event, whether you meant to or not. You made the plans, gathered the necessary staff and supplies, and directed Felix on what he should do and where to go…”

Muffet pats you on the head when she sees you blanch. “Oh yes my dear, you’ve made yourself  _ important.  _ Important enough to need formal, traditional mourning dress to attend this event! But…” 

She trails off, looking the gown over as a few spiders clamber over it. “We are in a new world. A new time. Regalia should reflect that.” 

Her voice is quiet; she seems to be talking to herself more than to you. She stares at the gown a moment longer, then sighs and turns to you. 

“Let me show you how to put it on, there are clasps and such in strange places.”

You’re simultaneously awed and a little scared of the gown…no, the  _ outfit,  _ that Muffet has made for you in such a short time. What had originally looked like a classically-elegant gown, black and cream with short sleeves and a scooping collar, was in fact only one of  _ three  _ pieces. How in the hell she’d made all of this in less than two hours, you’ll never guess. 

Besides the floor-length gown, there’s an embroidered vest that weighs a  _ ton _ to wear over it, and then…

“Muffet, this is…this is beautiful.”

You’d assumed that the thread, ‘Quicksilver’ thread as Muffet had called it, would be worked into the dress somehow. But instead, it had been woven, or crocheted, or  _ somethinged _ , into a collar of sorts, sitting so light on your skin you can barely feel it even though it’s wide enough in the front to cover your collarbones. It sparkles in the dim light, looking for all the world like someone had taken pure silver and pulled it thin enough to be worked like floss. Studded in it, like little glimmers of light peaking out, are tiny, brilliant gems that sparkle orange, purple, blue, gold...

Most of the fabric on you is silk; you can tell by the texture, and the weight of the gown. The gems on the vest look suspiciously real, and you already knew that the quicksilver is priceless. It occurs to you, as Muffet fusses around you fixing last-minute hems and lengths, that you’re probably wearing a small fortune. That Felix had  _ paid  _ a small fortune.

Finally, Muffet helps you out of the outfit, and hangs it carefully in a heavy garment bag.

“Don’t let this even  _ near  _ a dry-cleaner. You bring it to me, and me only!”

She hands you the bag, laughing a little at the slightly shell-shocked expression on your face. You wrench yourself free of the  _ oh god this costs so much what if I drop it what if I get something on it oh no oh no oh no  _ enough to thank her. 

“Ma’am, this is…this is so beautiful. Thank you so much, I…”

Muffet shakes her head, steering you toward the door. “Thank  _ you.  _ I know what you’re doing. I hear things. The gown is spelled to repel water, dirt, smudges and such….it won’t rip  _ easily _ , but take a machete to it and you’ll be able to tear it apart. So don’t go on any jungle adventures in it.”

You giggle at this, and she grins back. 

“Now go impress everyone. And come back to tell me what Felix thinks.”

You grin at her, then dash out the door and into your car. You have an hour until you have to be at the hotel, two until the funeral, and you figure it’d be better to get dressed there rather than risk driving in the gown. 

After stopping at home to grab a bigger purse and check your hair one last time, you text Felix and head out for the Stained Glass. It’s odd; you’ve driven this same route a thousand times, and of course it’s busier some days than others (it IS the city, after all), but still- you’ve never seen this much traffic, especially in the normally-quiet days between Christmas and New Years. It almost takes you forty five minutes to make the fifteen minute drive…

And once you get close, you can see why.

There. Are.  _ Hundreds of them. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have a reference for the dress....heh....uh....*deletes the forty-odd pictures the regalia was pictured up from*
> 
> Part two is done, and goes up tonight!


	22. Regalia Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like Customer Service, and maybe would like to let me know in a typographical or, uh, 'jingly' way (and/or would also like to come learn about where I've been for the past few weeks), come find me on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com).
> 
> And for an added ambience, you could probably listen to this [amazing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPB7aZIn6Xw) piano version of the Undertale theme at the part labeled 'song', because it's what I listened to while writing that exact part:)

The moment you pull into the parking garage, Doggo is there. He must have been waiting beside your parking space, and you barely have your door open before he reaches in and clasps your wrist, that sparkling shield he can use jumping from his fur to your skin.

“They aren’t doing anything...yet.” His eyes are worried, he lips curled back slightly in a subconscious snarl. “But just in case. Be damned if I know how they found out, by all the stars…”

You chew your lip as you gather up your purse and the dress-bag, wondering the same. How _had_ those awful people found out about the funeral? The newspapers had swore; they wouldn’t share details of the event until _after_ it was done! And none of your employees would have talked, would they…?

Doggo takes your purse and gown from your arms before you can protest, carrying them for you as the two of you cautiously emerge onto the street. It’s...nice, in a strange way, having his magical shield around you. It feels comforting, familiar even, and suddenly, you remember the Griffin’s unspoken _feeling_ of your Soul.

“Hey Doggo...what color is your magic? Like before it’s...worked?” You scratch your arm, embarrassed at not knowing the correct terms. You _hate_ looking dumb in front of other people. “ I don’t know what to call it, but like…human Souls have color, and Monster magic has color, so-”

His quiet chuckle silences you. When you glance over at him, he’s facing the street and the writhing mass in front of the hotel, but his eye is on you.

“It’s almost the same as yours, boss. Though you can’t see it. But it’s strong. Like how canvas feels under your paw...or hand, in your case. Smells like home; sounds like your Granbitch coming and bailing you out of a puppy-pile.”

His description, touch and sound to describe how something looks, confuses you for a moment. Then you remember, _Doggo can’t see color._.

“Oh, that’s…” The more you think of it, the more you realize; this description helped you more than if he’d told you a color or an image, no matter how exact. You can almost _feel_ his words in his magic around you; an innate power to protect, an urge to defend and nurture. The drive to puff out your chest in the face of danger, maybe even a little recklessness thrown in too.

You search for the end of the sentence you started, your mouth working noiselessly for a few seconds, before you just settle on-

“...that makes sense, yeah. Thanks.”

“Yours is more mixed than mine, though. Your Soul has some stalk and some snarl in it.”

You cock a brow at him, bemused at his description and wondering what it means...but just then, you turn the corner of the building beside the Stained Glass, and a wall of sound hits you all at once.

“ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION!”

“RAPISTS!”

“BACK WHERE THEY BELONG!”

There must be a few thinkers in this crowd, you dimly think to yourself. They’re all chanting and raging, boiling around each other in a mass of ugly black clothing and bigotry, but not one of them steps foot off the sidewalk and onto your property line. There are police officers milling about in front of them, but they can’t do anything unless they step over that line, or attack someone.

“Pieces of shit…” you mutter under your breath, refusing to make eye contact with any of them. Still, the chanting ramps up a notch when you come into view, and again you have to wonder...how did they _know?_

“Ma’am?”

It’s Officer Cooper, his expression fixed in a practiced-blankness.

“Hi...” You sound weary even to yourself, and you take a moment to straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath. 

When you open your eyes again, you aren’t the girl who just got a pretty dress and is a little freaked out by the mob before you.

You’re the general manager of the Stained Glass Inn.

You’re someone who knows how to be confident in front of all these screaming idiots.

“Boss?”

You tear your gaze away from where it was fixed on the crowd, noting with some humor how the cluster of people you’d been staring at were slowly backing away from you, as if ashamed of themselves.

“Sorry. Good afternoon, Officer Cooper.”

The man smiles at you, clasping your shoulder warmly. “It’s good to see you go all chill and stone, like your grandmother used to. Could scare a rat out of the lobby with one look, your grandmother.”

You grin, putting your hand over his. You’d never met your grandmother, she’d died before you were born, but you knew all the stories of what a terror she was. Head of the kitchens she might have been, but even her husband readily agreed; she’d been the one to really run the Inn.

“Wish I could scare these rats away too, sir, but I’m not as good as grandma. Is everything alright?”

Behind you, Doggo mutters something, but you can’t hear him over the mob.

Officer Cooper sighs, shooting a glare at the crowd. “Yeah, mostly. There were some others out here, folks that are part of this support group. They come out and block the view of those people-” he jerks his thumb at the mob “-from the Monsters they’re harassing. But there just aren’t that many of them, and they were blocking the sidewalk...they moved in behind the group here, are walking Monsters across the street if they have to get here.”

Squinting, you can just make out a group  of forty or so humans standing in the little park at the center of the traffic circle, their outfits bright and colorful. _To stand out against the black_ , you think to yourself.

“Hey boss, you’re runnin’ short on time.”

Doggo says it quietly, but Officer Cooper still hears.

“We’ll keep them from causing any real trouble. Sorry about this ma’am.”

You shake your head, smiling at him, and walk past him and into the Inn, Doggo a bit off your right.

The moment the doors shut behind you, you breathe a sigh of relief. You can only barely hear the crowd in here, and your staff is doing everything possible to keep the Inn’s lobby a place of calm and quiet. There are a few Monster families already sitting around, all dressed in dark colors and looking sad, but the moment they see you and Doggo, they stand.

You greet them, exchanging hand clasps and polite hugs, then excuse yourself to get changed, taking your bags from Doggo. After asking for a key to an empty first floor room from Sandy at the front desk (nice, the Stone Suite is vacant), you pull open the door and and drop your things on the bed, pulling out your phone. You text Felix about the crowd, then carry the dress bag into the suite bathroom and busy yourself carefully putting on the gown and other pieces. You’d grabbed silver earrings at home to match the collar, and you’re almost afraid to turn toward the mirror once you have it all on.

Finally, you dare a peek...and turn the whole way, grinning a little. You look so...so _important._ The black silk just brushes the floor, the cream bodice showing off the Quicksilver collar elegantly. The vest-thing, a sleeveless, open drape of plain black brocade with silver embroidery around the edges, gives you a look of someone older, in a historical sense. Something from a different time. Novi had swept your hair back in a plain, off-the-neck twist, and you’re grateful she’d kept it plain. Anything more would have been too much with this gown.

And finally, the collar itself. You finger it, marveling at the soft-yet-sharp feel of the thread, like spun metal, and examine the gems in it closer. You aren’t sure what they are; maybe an opal of some sort, from the way they flash and change in the light. They’re so tiny and hidden, you have to twist this way and that to see them…

Someone knocks at your door, and you jump slightly, then smooth your hair and call, “It’s unlocked!”

The way the person walks through the door is familiar enough to make you straighten and turn, and you come face-to-face with Felix as he stares at you dumbly, and he looks different, wearing this...this...oh.

If your outfit is modern, Felix’s is anything but. You look 'inspired' by history- he looks like he stepped out of it. His pants are loose, draping over his legs before tucking into soft black boots, and his belt is...oh that sneaky little Spider.

His belt is woven of Quicksilver.

He’s wearing some sort of brocade jacket, the same black as yours but heavily embroidered all over,  with a high collar and clasped down the front to show a white shirt beneath. To complete the look, draped down over his hip and thrown over one shoulder, is a heavy cream sash with a jeweled ring holding it in place.

The two of you match.

Perfectly.

“Ohmystars _Muffet.”_ Felix _breathes_ the words more than says them, and steps forward to run a very careful finger down the collar at your throat. “She did _so well_ , so so well, you look so, so…”

“Expensive?” You can’t help but needle him a little; you’ve never seen him lose his composure like this, but he doesn’t even hear you. His face is soft, wondering, as he trails his paw over your shoulder and onto the vest-thing.

“She even matched the tapestry weave to mine, where in the world did she _get it…”_

Glancing down, you squint at the vest, and realize that what you’d thought was just a random pattern in the brocade, is infact _pictures._

Hundreds and hundreds of pictures, woven into the cloth in a black just slightly darker than the base weave,  wrapping around behind you and down, down the whole way to where they end against the embroidered edge. You hadn’t had the chance to really look before- they were stylized and you’d been in a hurry, so you’d just assumed it was a pretty nonsense-pattern.

“Do they...mean something?” Felix looks so _blown_ , so strangely vulnerable, that you’re almost afraid to ask it.

He jerks a little, then meets your eye, blinking. “They, it’s...it’s the story of Monsters, our history, it’s traditional…”

He trails off, takes a deep breath and looks away for a moment, then points to something near your collarbone where you can’t see it.

“Up here, on your shoulders, are the First Stars. They sang the first notes of the creation song, after the echoes of the old universe almost faded away.”

His voice is distant as he runs his hand down, tracing a pattern down a bit.

“And here, the beginnings of Life, when the water and the sky came together the first time, _stars…”_

“Felix?” You glance up at him sharply, because his voice actually _broke_ on stars. “What’s wrong, should I not be wearing it, is-”

“No, no! No, you should wear it, you should, it’s just…”

Felix actually sniffs, just the tiniest sniff, and you step forward to gently pull him into your arms.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

He wraps his arms around you, dropping his head and shaking it against your shoulder.

“Nothing’s _wrong_ , just...my family, we’re the only ones who wear this. Even the royal family traditionally shouldn’t wear this pattern. It’s the Constellation weave, the _Constellatió Textere_ , because we’ve been the history keepers of Monsterkind for...oh, for forever.”

He leans back then, looking into your eyes, then kisses you so very gently you think you feel it in your Soul.

“But...there’s no one left to wear it but me. No one. I never thought I’d see it on someone else again, we only ever broke it out for parties, or formal events...I was so little when I wore it last, I couldn’t even find my dad’s cotte until this morning...”

That brings you up short.

“Wait, Felix, your family...?”

“Dead.”

He says it quietly, with a finality to it that makes your eyes sting.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…”

Felix sighs, shrugging and stepping back from you slightly to finger the edge of your collar.

“I didn’t mean you to know. My grandmother died about a year ago, and she was the last, besides me. I have a few distant cousins by marriage, but no one related directly. I just….it’s nice to see you in this. It...it means a lot to me.”

Then his ears lay back for a moment, and he shoots a glare at the door as if expecting there to be a nosy Spider-lady bursting through at any moment.

“Though I’d love to know how Muffet could have _possibly_ finished this in less than two hours, I _know_ she didn’t have this ready made.”

You smile, reaching up to smooth his ears back to their normal, upright position. “I dunno. Apparently I’m also wearing a fortune in Spider-specific textile, so it’s just a day of miracles I suppose.”

Felix looks down as if noticing the collar of Quicksilver for the first time, and his eyes widen.

“No, _no_ , but I thought that was just silver, did she really...oh my _stars._ ”

“Any idea what these gems are?” You ask it overly-innocently; Felix looks like he might just have a small stroke, right here in the middle of the bathroom, and you can only _barely_ keep from smiling a little.

“Fire opals.” He says it automatically, then blinks as if processing what he just said. “Violet-and-orange flash fire opals, but with gold, and pink, and...oh, _oh…_ ”

He starts to giggle, a little hysterically, and steps away from you to lean back against the bathroom wall, covering his face with a paw.

“Felix?” You know the signs of slight hysteria when you see them, but after a moment, he calms himself enough to wave you off, his shoulders still shaking.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, just...god, if any Monster at this funeral didn’t know we were together, they will when they see us.”

You turn to look at the two of you in the mirror. “Because we match?”

“Something like it, yeah.”

You lift a hand to your throat, gently spreading your fingers over the collar, then fingering the vest-thing (god, what is it _called_ , you’re sure there’s a name for this piece of clothing), wondering…

“Felix, if this is...too presumptuous, I’ll understand.”

You’d had a sneaking suspicion since you saw this outfit that Muffet had taken some _liberties_ with old traditions, and Felix’s reaction had only served to cement that. You take a breath, and force yourself to meet his eye in the mirror.

“I mean it, I don’t know _why_ Ms. Muffet would have dressed me in something that’s so... _specific_ to your family, to Monsters, and I’m almost positive that most humans wouldn’t be traditionally allowed to wear what I’m wearing right now...so if you don’t want me in it, I’ll understand.”

And you will understand, you think to yourself. Because this is _important_ , heavy in a way most humans don’t understand anymore, as removed from outdated things like traditions and royalty and family lines as we all are.

Felix meets your gaze in the mirror and holds it for a moment, his face inscrutable...then in a sudden movement, pushes off the wall and steps up close behind you, yet not touching you at all.

“Humans….humans have worn this is the past, though I think it’s a bit too soon to tell you in what context. But...you care so much, you do so much, in your own quiet way, to help Monsters. So...wear this in pride and dignity, in honor of those who have come before, so that those who come after may remember.”

The last bit is too practiced, too formal to be anything else but a blessing of sorts, something traditional, and you nod wordlessly, looking at him in the mirror as he steps closer, finally brushing up against your back, then bows his head down to your neck, his lips grazing your skin and…

 **“** BOSS **!”**

You both jump, then turn to see Doggo in the doorway with an absolutely shit-eating grin, though that expression drops quickly when he sees you front-on.

“Oh wow, you look...you look, uh…” He trails off when you _feel_ more than hear Felix rumble behind you, a sub-vocal warning of sorts, and you turn slightly to shoot him a look which he completely ignores.

“Anyway! It’s um...it’s time.” Doggo’s voice loses the playfulness it had held up until this moment, and you glance sharply at the clock to realize he’s _right,_ it’s almost two o’clock.

“Alright Doggo, thanks.” He looks between you and Felix one last time, then to your surprise, steps into the room slightly to bow to you both, before leaving in a hurry and closing the door behind him.

“If I were a weaker-woman, I’d pass out from all this, you know,” you mutter dryly to Felix after the silence stretches on too long, stepping away from him and twisting slightly to crack your back. He huffs a laugh and reaches out to skim your waist, pulling you towards him.

“But you’re not. You’re brave, and competent, and you’ll be there telling me what to do and where to go, and I’ll be able to pass out on you afterward because this is _not_ going to be fun for me.”

You start to ask what he means, but Doggo politely knocks on the door again, and you shrug to yourself. Tucking your keycard safely into the pocket on the skirt of the dress (Pockets! You love Muffet!), you let Felix open the door for you, and head into the hallway towards the lobby. Even from here, you can hear how many people are out there by the low murmur of many, many voices.

Right before the two of you turn the corner into the main lobby area, you reach forward and stop Felix. “We’re here together, right? Give me your arm. There’s gonna be newspaper people here, they should see us together.”

He looks at you with so much admiration, you think your heart might burst. Then he takes a deep breath, staring at the ceiling for a moment, and suddenly he isn’t Felix your boyfriend anymore. He’s Felix L.P. Constellation, attorney and castellan to the house of Dreemur. His back straightens; his gaze is calm, his eyes fixed forward, and for a few seconds, you scramble to think who _you_ can be, which of your faces is important enough, confident enough, to do this…

Strangely, it’s Doggo that pops into your mind for a moment. Doggo, and the way he’d always treated you from the beginning. Friendly, always friendly, but respectful and formal in a way people just didn’t behave anymore. He stood when you entered a room, offered to take your coat the very first time you’d met him, when you’d interviewed him for a position as a security guard.

Doggo believed in you. He’d told you that, over and over. He believed, _believes_ , in you enough to always keep his magic around you when even the slightest chance of danger is present. Was the first of the Monsters you employed to call you ‘Boss’, with that strange, magical undertone of, ‘ _A person I trust to lead me well’._

You can be that person Doggo believes in.

With that thought, you look up at Felix, nod...then take his hand and step around the corner.

The cameras flash quietly, and you fix a small, sad smile on your face as a few journalists come up to ask your name, Felix’s name, and for a short description of what’s going on today. You let him talk and just nod or smile slightly to support whatever he says. You know the three journalists here personally; they’re the same ones from the three big newspapers in the city that always do stories on the Stained Glass.

They’re respectful, and only hold your time for a few minutes, before stepping back to join their photographers and discuss things in low voices, and Felix clasps your hand on his arm once before stepping away and toward the crowd of Monsters in the lobby.

His voice is low, carrying in a way only a practiced actor or singer knows how to do, and he speaks in a language you can’t understand as he addresses the Monsters. Across the lobby, one of your employees subtly waves you down, and you nod respectfully to the crowd before walking over to her.

It’s Sandy, one of your front desk girls.

“The ballroom is ready ma’am, and the food is ready to go out in the Iron Room. The family you were waiting for hasn’t arrived yet though; we’ve had seats and drinks ready for them since one-thirty, like you said to.”

You frown at that, squinting at the wall to think for a moment. The Selkie had said they’d come any time between one and three, so you’d told your people to have chairs and small things to eat and drink ready during that time. Now though, it was nearing two-thirty...and they weren’t here?

The crowd of Monsters (and some humans, now that you look, not many but some) murmurs agreement to something Felix just said, and you start to turn-

-when the muffled grumble of the mob outside turns to an absolute _roar._

“Oh sons of bitches!” you growl under your breath, stepping away from Sandy and toward the door. Doggo is beside you in an instant, the magical shield flickering out over his suit and onto you the moment he reaches out and clasps your arm.

It’s a mess outside. There are more police officers than there were before, and they’re physically trying to break the mob into two to allow a small group of Monsters surrounded by brightly-dressed humans to walk through.

As you starting walking toward the door, fury boiling up in you so hot you could choke on it, the crowd of Monsters inside parts like water. Some nod, some just stare...but some, to your later curiosity, give you a strange salute, a three-fold touch to their forehead, mouth, then chest.

Felix says something with your name in it, but it’s strange- you hear him distantly, yet all your attention is on that small group of struggling  Monsters outside as an odd, cold feeling comes over you. You remember what Doggo had said earlier, that you have ‘More sneak and snarl’ than him…

Yes, you’ll show them sneak and snarl.

“Excuse me,” you say to the Monsters who are a little slower to move out of your way, and they step back in a hurry.

Opening the doors, the sound of the mob smashes into you like a truck, almost making you wince. But you raise your chin to it, taking a deep breath.

“Enough.”

You don’t say it loudly; it shouldn’t have been heard at all, honestly. But you put some of that coldness into the word, as if it couldn’t _dare_ be disobeyed…

...and to your distant surprise, it isn’t. The people in front turn toward you incredulously, opening their mouths to scream louder, and with a sudden flash of inspiration that you don’t quite understand, you pick up that cold in your mind, _gather_ it like a blanket... and throw it out over the mob.

Doggo says something- you don’t hear him. The Monsters inside are whispering- you don’t pay them any attention.

You pull Doggo’s paw gently from your arm and step through the doorway, walking serenely toward the mob and ignoring his urgent whispers. The police outside step out of your way, a funny expression on their faces...except for Officer Cooper. He’s watching you with the beginnings of a tiny smile on his face, and something very deep and quiet inside you reaches out to him... only to feel him reach back.

You spare a moment to look at him, and he gives you the tiniest wink, before returning all your focus to the mob. Clenching your fist as if to grip that feeling of cold more firmly, you walk directly toward the first line of humans. You don’t pause to wait for them to move; you just stay in a straight line, and you almost walk straight into a big, red-faced man as he stares at you. But then he blinks, his gaze wavering...and after a moment, he steps aside, looking shamefaced and cowed.

So it goes down through the crowd, though you’re starting to feel strangely, suddenly tired, until there’s a clear path through the mob, and you step out the other side to reach out to the humans and Selkie family who’ve been lingering outside a car, looking nervous.

“I-” your voice breaks, so you clear your throat before trying again “-I’m glad we can see each other again, though certainly not for the circumstances...please, come in.”

You step up and offer your arm to the old Naga as he leans tiredly on the coal-colored Selkie, and he takes it after blinking at you for a moment. With he and you in the lead, and the brightly-dressed humans forming a loose circle around you all, you lead the group back through the mob.

A few of the humans shift in place; you shoot them a glare, _pressing_ with your mind like it has weight, and they go still again, grumbling but not daring to raise a fuss.

You are so, _so_ tired by the time you make it up the stairs and into the Stained Glass, that the moment the doors shut behind you, you collapse into the closest chair and put your head in your hands. Outside, the mob almost instantly begins to pick up noise until you can hear their muffled screaming, twice-renewed, through the glass. You feel nauseous and shakey, as if you’d just run miles without stopping, and you don’t even look up when someone steps close to you, sure that it’s Felix…

But instead, it’s a little Monster holding a stuffed animal so ratty, you can’t even tell what it’s meant to be. You lift your head a little further to smile at her, and she grins back, showing sharp teeth with multiple gaps. She’s furred blue all over, with a lighter blue underbelly and a dress made of dark blue cotton.

Then she reaches out, putting her little paw on your hand...and you jerk away with a gasp as something like lightning flickers off her skin and up your arm, vanishing into your chest and making your heart pound. Suddenly, you feel like you’ve gotten a night’s sleep and drank a gallon of coffee all at once, and you blink hard, choking back a groan as you fight to stay upright.

“Genie! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry…”

Another blue, ottery-looking Monster comes up, plainly the little one’s mother, and drags her away as Felix wanders up behind them, openly smirking at you.

“Raiju are fun, aren’t they?”

You cough, your eyes watering now, and swear under your breath as your heart slowly calms. It takes a few tries before you can squeak out, “What the hell _was that?!”_ in a whisper-shriek.

“Raiju. They collect ambient magic from the world around them, and gather it into workable, raw magic. Which they can also pass onto other magic users if, say, a magic user happened to crowd-control an entire mob of humans into complacency and drain themselves dry.”

He drops down to his knees beside your chair, his smirk fading into a small, real smile. “Are you okay?”

You check yourself over; you still feel like you just used speed for the first time, but nothing seems broken or wrong.

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright. Sorry.”

Felix stands and offers you a hand, and you let him pull you to your feet. Since you’d come in, the crowd had filtered into the ballroom, where seating and a small platform had been raised per the Naga family’s request.

As you lean into Felix, grateful for this moment of quiet before the next disaster, whatever it might be, strikes, you realize that he’s trembling slightly.

“Felix? What’s wrong?” you ask sharply, stepping back to look him in the eye. He sighs, smoothing his paws down the front of his outfit, and turns slightly.

“This is...well, it’s gonna be...hard.”

Ahhh. You smile at him, reaching forward to run your hand down his arm.

“Because it’s a funeral? It’s alright; I know you’re a good public speaker...you’ll do fine.”

But he shakes his head slightly. “Not, uh...not just the speaking. I don’t mind that, actually.”

“Then-” but before you can ask, ‘then what?’, a small cluster of Monsters outside the ballroom doors wave to Felix, and he squeezes your hand one last time before straightening his shoulders and starting toward them.

“Just, uh...don’t go too far?” He murmurs it over his shoulder as the two of you walk over, and you nod your consent. He pauses, then turns and kisses you hard before strolling ahead of you and meeting up with the others, whispering in soft voices.

What the hell was that about, you wonder? You walk in and station yourself in a seat about halfway up the left side of the room, next to Doggo where he leans against the wall.

“That was well done,” he murmurs to you as the room begins to quiet, the various Monsters and humans taking their seats, and you look up at him with a wary look in your eye.

“Doggo, I have no idea was ‘that’ even _was_...but thanks. I think.”

He reaches down and scratches the back of your neck, earning a dirty look.

“We’ll talk more later, look.”

You look where he’s pointing with his other hand, and see Felix take a position standing just off the side of the short platform at the head of the room, flanked by three plant-looking Monsters you don’t recognize. To your surprise, you realize that he’s _nervous._  You know him well enough now to recognize the little tells. His body is tense, his ears perked and straight.

Then you stop paying attention to anything else in the room, because at that moment, the old Naga stands slowly from his chair in the front row...

...and begins to _sing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me woo you with my obsessive interest in textile history
> 
> Also, this chapter ended up being three parts? It's just long as hell bruh, tune in tomorrow (or next tomorrow) for the third and final installment of 'Jesus Christ Those People Are Actually Protesting A Funeral Oh Wait That Happens Everyday To Minorities In Real Life'
> 
> In case you don't follow me on tumblr (which you SHOULD), here is the post in which I explain where I've been for forever:
> 
> \--------  
> Basically, there’s this cat. This awful, fat, wonderful creature that I’ve been lucky enough to have for ten years. And her name is Katie. Or Pudding, for short.
> 
> She eats dryer lint like it’s going out of style, washes my makeup off every chance she gets…
> 
> and has cancer.
> 
> Katie has what the veterinarian believes is an injection-site ‘fibrosarcoma’, and it’s right on top of her spine. He’s almost positive he can get it all out, but the cost for the surgery is…intense.
> 
> $1,400
> 
> I don’t expect to make that much online. We’re all short on funds here. 
> 
> But the sin kitty has been there through everything. From the moment I started writing back in ye olde junior high, right up until this moment on my armchair. Pudding is the basis for Reader’s own fat little cat in Customer Service, and quite a few of Felix’s antics are based off things she does. She’s sat and stared at me for every word of porn I’ve ever written for you dirty, beautiful sinners to feast your eyes on.
> 
> So please…if you enjoy my writing, and want to show your appreciation in a way that will help Puddin’ Cat the way she needs it the most, there's a way on my tumblr page that I'm pretty sure, if you clicked on, you could most certainly do something with...
> 
> Thank you for reading my fics, my silly notes, my random posts, and most of all...for being the absolutely COOLEST little undertale niche-fandom that was ever born on this godforsaken website.
> 
> -Bee


	23. Regalia Pt. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com); come tell me what you think, and maybe read a sad tale of woe about our favorite in-story kitty (well, one of them anyway).

\---------------------------------

You hold your breath, biting your lip as his voice, broken and almost inaudible, carries over the silent crowd of Monsters. Glancing around, you count almost 300 people; all the seats are filled, and there’s a large group standing at the back...yet no one makes so much as a sneeze as the Naga sings, his voice rising and falling eerily in a language you can’t understand. Somehow though, it carries a feeling of tides, of loneliness, and old, deep waters.

It’s beautiful in a sad way, and you try your best to listen, but the jitters from the Raiju pup’s attempt to help you just won’t go away. You’re starting to feel like you pulled an all-nighter, then tried to compensate with caffeine; it’s the same shakey, awake-but-not feeling. That, combined with the unavoidable proof that you have, in some strange way, _magic…_

“Doggo?” Your whisper sounds too small, even to your own ears.

“Hm?” You’d startled him; he glances down at you, then frowns at the look on your face. “You alright?”

Chewing the inside of your cheek for a moment, you listen to the Naga, trying to find the words.

“Is this...okay? Like, is this normal? Or is there something wrong with me? Is it because I’m, um...with Felix?”

Doggo blinks, confused until you gesture at yourself then out the windows behind you. Through the sheer valances, the mob can be seen stomping around and noiselessly yelling.

“Ah.” He squints at you, and you crack your neck in an excuse to move for his benefit. Sighing, he slides down the wall to sit beside you on the floor, one arm propped over his knees as the Naga finishes singing and one of the Monsters stands to read a poem or something.

“I’m not the best to ask about this...my magic is pretty standard. Light, basic wards, lighting fires...plus the stuff specific to my family. I don’t know the history as well as someone like Felix would.”

You clench your teeth for a moment; that was _not_ the answer you’d hoped for. Still, any information was good information. You hadn’t known there was ‘standard’ or ‘specfic’ magic at all; you’d just assumed Monsters, well….did stuff with it. Shaped it however they wanted it. Still, it makes sense that there’d be a sort of general way it worked, with special little quirks depending on the Monster.

“Is that pretty common then? Most Monsters can do light, fire, that sort of thing?”

Doggo flashes a smile at you. “Yep. See, when you do that stuff...you’re letting the magic _do_ something, you know? The magic turns into light, or into heat. It’s just changing from one thing to another.”

“Like electricity!” You probably say it a little too loud; a few of the nearest Monsters turn to give the two of you dirty looks, and you both look down, cowed. When they turn back to the proceedings at the front, you repeat it quieter.

“Like electricity, how we learned about it in school! How electricity can make light, or heat, or magnetism, but it’s still electricity that’s sort of...turning into those things, you know?”

Doggo makes a sound under his breath, nodding slightly.

“Huh, yeah. That’s a good way to put it, actually. Most Monsters can do that stuff, even when they’re little. It’s kinda instinctual.” He yawns, covering his muzzle with a lazy paw. “Then as you get older, you learn how to shape _just_ the magic. Turn it into bullets, like little balls. Throw them at trees and stuff. That’s harder, because then the magic has to affect something else by itself, you know? It can’t change into another thing, like light or heat. It has to have, I dunno….’weight’ on it’s own.”

“So it’s harder?” You say it out of the corner of your mouth, because the rooms gotten very quiet all of a sudden. The plant Monsters you’d seen with Felix earlier have taken a small, wooden box from where the Naga had been holding it on his lap, and are busy fussing around it up on the platform.

“Yeah. Then you get into using it for attacks, or turning it into bigger stuff, like the buffer I use when I’m working. It’s tricky...but we’ll talk more later. Pay attention here; you’re seeing something that hasn’t been seen for a long time.”

Smiling, you reach down and pat Doggo on the head. “Alright. But Doggo...for not being a person I should ask about magic, you did a pretty good job explaining things. Thanks.”

Doggo snaps at your hand, but it’s half-hearted, and his lips are twitching at the corners.

“Miss?” You both jump; the Raiju mother from earlier had come up beside you while the two of you talked. She gives a tiny curtsy in her skirt, and you automatically stand up to greet her.

“Yes?” She looks nervous, and it makes YOU nervous.

“I just wanted to apologize for my Genie, she can be so rambunctious sometimes, and I only looked away for a second, and I don’t want her bad behavior to reflectontheotherMonstershere-”

You cut her too-fast apology off with what you hope is a comforting smile, reaching down to take her hand and trying to act the way you’d seen Toriel act; all nurturing and kind and graceful. It’s a crapshoot- there’s a grace to Toriel Dreemurr, a poise, that you can’t hope to copy in your lifetime- but it seems to work.

“Children always get away from us when we aren’t paying attention; there’s no harm done!” You say it softly, angling your body in a way that tells the nosy funeral attendants sitting nearest to you that they are _not_ to eavesdrop. Then, knowing that she’ll trust you more if you need something from her, you ask-

“She was just trying to help me, she’s so sweet...and I do feel less tired than before, but…”

The Raiju’s face lights up.

“Oh! Do you have the shakes? Here, I can help with that.”

You nod, and she reaches up to hold your hand in both of hers.

“Just relax; it’s been so long since any of us had to do this for a human…”

 _Oh, that’s comforting_ , you think to yourself, but you keep a smile on your face and take a deep breath. It doesn’t feel like she’s doing anything in particular, and you feel a little strange, standing there with her holding your hand, staring off into the distance over your arm.

Then to your surprise, you realize the jitteriness you’d just been getting used to is slowly fading away.

“There.”

She steps back, letting go of your hand, and you rub it, looking around. Felix had disappeared, you don’t know where.

The Raiju mother, after a moment’s hesitation, looks up at you with a funny look on her face.

“There are some Monsters who would be very, um...interested, to know there are humans who have magic. Maybe it would be better if it wasn’t found out.”

Then before you can answer, she sighs and walks away as one of the plant Monsters at the front of the room sets a low table down on the platform. Another comes up and sets a shallow, unglazed bowl on the table as the third carefully leads the Naga up onto the platform, a pitcher clutched in his hands.

Doggo gets up from his seat on the floor as you watch the proceedings, his face a study.

“How’s the Cat been doing lately?” His voice is soft, pitched so none of the others nearby could possibly hear him.

“What?” It’s such a non sequitur that it takes you a second to realize who he’s even talking about. “Wait, Felix?”

“Yeah, how’s he been? Sleeping, eating, that sort of thing? Getting all snugglesome and soft at your place?”

You stare at him, unsure if he’s being cruel or not. Doggo plainly doesn’t like Felix, though you don’t know why; maybe it’s just a Cat and Dog thing. Whatever the reason, you can’t tell his meaning from his tone.

“He’s been staying at my place, for the past few days, yeah...is that a problem?”

You add a little sharpness to the question, just enough to make Doggo startle. He puts a hand up, shaking his head.

“No, I didn’t mean it like...I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how did you mean it?” You say it calmly, but you hold his eyes with yours; he’s still your employee, and you don’t like the insinuation of disrespect to yourself OR Felix.

“Is he, you know. Healthy? Doing well for himself?”

Deciding there’s enough apology in Doggo’s eyes that he’s being genuine, you look away from him to watch the stage as the Naga pours water into the bowl, his mouth moving unintelligibly.

“I guess so, though I wish he’d eat more...one second he inhales an entire pizza, the next he forgets to eat entirely! He got so busy talking at the Christmas faire, I practically had to shove a kebab into his mouth to make him chew it-”

You cut yourself off, not wanting to overshare. “He seems to be okay lately, is all I mean. Why?”

Doggo glances around, then leans in until his whiskers are brushing your ear.

“What do you know about what he’s doing today?”

You shake your head, murmuring, “Just that’s he’s here as an honor of sorts, for the family like. A public figure.”

Doggo huffs through his teeth, the breath tickling the baby hairs on your neck.

“Whoever told you that left a whole lot out, that’s all I’m saying about it.”

You grab him before he can step back, squeezing his arm.

“Doggo, what do you mean? It was my idea to have him here; Felix just went along with it!” you ask sharply, one eye on Felix as he reappears beside the stage, clasping arms with the Naga.

“Then he planned with the family privately, and is just using all this as an excuse to make it public, though how he got the King to agree I’ll never guess. Iif all that up there is what I think it is, then your Cat is about to do something _very_ risky for himself.”

Before Doggo can explain further, a short, reptillian-looking Monster comes walking toward you, their face stern.

“Excuse me, but all humans are being asked to step outside for the private part of this ceremony, by orders of-”

Over his head, you catch Felix’s eye far at the front of the room as he helps the Naga sit again, and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, extending one finger to point at the floor beside him. He wants you to stay.

“By orders of who?”

You ask it firmly, pulling yourself up straight and looking down at the Monster. It’s easy; he’s a full head and a half shorter than you.

“By orders of the...the proceedings ma’am, and of the Royal Family, who has given special permission for this tradition to take place…”

They trail off when you raise your chin, propping a hand on your hip. It’s a motion that always looks better in skirts, and it must be a universal sign of irritation in females, because the Monster grimaces slightly.

“And who organized these proceedings? Who provided the space, and the funds and supplies? I’ll be sure to let Queen Toriel know that I was excluded from watching over my man, the next time we see each other.”

It’s a bluff; you’re not sure if you’ll ever see the Queen again, but it has the right effect.

“O-oh, I wasn’t aware that you were on...speaking terms with their Majesties.” He’s plainly had the wind blown from his sails, and glances around rapidly for backup. Sadly, almost all the other humans are being led politely out of the room by his companions, which just leaves him. You fluff out your skirts, raising an eyebrow.

The finishing touch is Doggo, who steps up just off your left, his demeanor calm and relaxed.

“You know my face-” His voice has a lot of friendliness in it, but his eyes are cold. “-and Felix Constellation is her partner. He’s here by her permission.”

It’s not quite a lie; you _had_ signed off on the function agreement last night. The Monster looks between the two of you, frets for a moment…then nods stiffly and gives you a cheerless smile.

“Of course. Sorry for the interruption.”

He walks away straight-backed, and you give Doggo a bemused look. He just shrugs, as if he hasn’t a care in the world, and turns to face the front of the room. Felix had stepped up to the podium others had been using to read bits of poetry or tell stories of the mother and child, and when he clears his throat, the soft chatter of the Monsters goes quiet.

“It’s not often so many of us are together in one place, is it?”

He has no microphone, but he projects very well; you can hear him just fine from the back, and the Monster audience gives a murmur of agreement. Felix smiles at them, unfolding a piece of paper and setting it in front of him.

“I’m afraid I’m not very well prepared-” he gives the room a sheepish look “-this was only approved by the King this morning. I might not be as eloquent as we all could hope.”

As a grumble goes through the crowd, hinting that maybe his Majesty isn’t a favorite for his policies, it dawns on you that Felix isn’t just speaking...Felix is _acting_ , and acting well too; you know him well enough to see it _._ His expressions are too well-timed, his voice _just_ on the right side of disgruntled. He’s using this; for what?

“But honestly, I didn’t have much to do at all. It’s thanks to my _doyenne_ that I have a floor to stand on; she was gracious enough to set this up for us _and_ make sure I arrived on time, which is quite the task let me tell you…”

As he speaks, he motions to you, and the crowd turns to look as they laugh at his self-depreciation. You blink, then step forward and smile, spreading your arms slightly in a gesture of welcome to the Monsters. As you watch, a more than a few of them notice your outfit and look at each other, then smile at you with far more friendliness than they had been a moment before. A few even do that same three-part gesture you’d noticed earlier before turning back to Felix.

He looks down at his paper, sighing visibly; if you had to hazard a guess, you’d say that there isn’t even anything on that paper. You’re sure it’s just a prop in this act...but what’s the goal? When he looks back up, the humor in his face fades to something sad.

“We haven’t had reason to meet like this...to DO this...for so long. What was the point, when the Underground was hopeless? Some even questioned the morality of bringing a child into that life in the first place. Fear was the only thing left below ground. Stars, my grandfather was the last of my family to even _see_ it happen, and that was him watching _his_ grandfather. I can only hope to do them credit.”

Felix looks around at the audience, a polite frown creasing his brow.

“How many of you brought human partners here today? Friends?”

You see a surprising number of heads nod or gesture in assent, depending on their nature. Felix shakes his head incredulously.

“And they’re locked out? For what? What we do here can’t be repeated on humans; we all know it. Let them back in; let them see our hope, and share it with their neighbors. Let them see we aren’t afraid anymore.”

The lizard-Monster and his friends start to protest, but are overridden by a few of the older Monsters as they stand and push them out of the way, opening the doors to the (guilty-looking, you bet they were eavesdropping) small group of humans scattered in the lobby. They call to them quietly, and after a moment’s hesitation, they come back into the room and find their empty seats. It’s a mixed group; about twenty total, some plainly partnered to a few of the Monsters by the way they hold hands, and some just sitting down and whispering with their friend.

Two of the newspaper reporters peek around the door; you’ve known them for years, and are friends with both of them online. The papers they write for are both liberal-leaning, and have been publishing pro-Monster pieces for the past year. When Felix looks at you, you gesture toward them and he nods slightly. Telling them in stern whispers that they _will_ be sending Felix a copy of their article before they publish it, for the safety of the Monsters present of course, you lead them in along with their photographers.

Once the humans are settled, Felix scans over the group, fingering the edge of his paper.

“Every friendship we make, every person we greet on the street, every act of kindness we perform for a stranger...it all helps to remind us that we _both_ belong here. This planet is our home; there is plenty of room for us all. Even as I speak, there are brave individuals outside who are facing the hatred of their own race to support Monsters, are organizing their own events to educate the public and foster connections.”

Felix’s face falls, his grip tight on the stand of the podium.

“But...it wasn’t enough, two nights ago. The police were called to the beach on Christmas night, because a lock-in was attempted by the same hate-group as is outside this inn today. Maybe not the same individuals, but they shared the same belief; that Monsters are not people. That Monsters are not equal.”

He looks out the windows for a moment, his face hard.

“That Monsters don’t deserve to live. And they demonstrated that in the plainest way; with murder. Yes, it was murder, that night on the beach. One of them attempted to slap a Naga woman, because she asked them to move aside; her child had hurt her hand on a sharp seashell, and she wanted to go up to their car to get a bandage. They missed the woman. They hit the child-”

“-and...they killed her.”

There’s a rumble of anger in the crowd; you guess that many of these people hadn’t known the circumstances. One of the human women, here with a friend, has a baby hanging in a sling around her neck- she pulls it close with one hand, and pulls her friend towards her with the other, as if protecting both.

“The police came; the perpetrator is being charged with murder. But...that didn’t help the mother. The horror was too much; by sunrise, she Fell.”

Sitting with the family, a man there with his young son shifts to put a protective arm around a crystalline-Monster shoulders as they weep, dipping his forehead to rest against them, his eyes shining. They’re plainly together; the rest of the family reaches out to touch them, or to console the Naga as he sits with his face in his hands.

“We can’t change the mind of every bigot. We might not even be able to change the minds of most. But there are millions of humans in this country who are afraid of us simply from ignorance. There are thousands of Monsters who fear humans for the same.”

He isn’t faking now; Felix might be working the crowd, but the emotion in his voice is genuine.

“And so, I encourage the beings of this planet...humanity and Monsterkind alike; ask, rather than assume. Question, rather than believe. We are not so different as appearances would have you believe. We eat, we drink. We sleep, and dance, and sing, and buy things to sit around and collect dust."

That gets a small chuckle from the sniffling crowd, which Felix flashes a shakey smile at that makes him look years younger. But he sobers quickly, taking a deep breath. "We breathe. We are born. We die."

He looks up, and you swear he looks right at you.

"We love."

The crowd is silent; there are tears on many faces. The reporters are writing down his words as fast as they can, sniffling a little themselves.

"We love so much, so deeply...that when a child is killed, from hate and cruelty...the mother will die simply from the grief of the loss. A silent fading, until she falls to the ground...and is no more. Almost the last of a once-great people, reduced by time and the ravages of war until only three individuals remained. And now there is one. Because not one person in the mob that night had the courage to say “Enough”. Not one person was willing to face down their peers before they went too far- it was _cowardice_ that killed this child."

Felix pauses to turn away and blink hard; whether for effect or in true emotion, it tears through the crowd of humans and monsters. People begin openly sobbing at this slight slip in his composure; the two photographers’ cameras go off in a storm of clicks.

He clears his throat, smooths the paper on the podium as he plainly fights to calm himself...then in a sudden change, yanks it from the stand and crumples it, his face angry and devastated, as if he can't stand to hide his true feelings anymore. He stares out at the crowd, breathing hard, letting the tension build as he squeezes the paper so tightly you swear you hear his bones creak in the dead-silence.

"How long..." His voice is scarcely a whisper. "How long does this go on? How long does the loud minority, the hateful minority the _murdering minority_ ...speak louder than the majority? How much longer will Monsters sleep cold in the rain, how much longer will Monsters go hungry in this land of _freedom_ , how many more babies will _die_ in their mother's arms?"

He throws the paper aside, stepping out from behind the podium and pointing over the crowd, through the windows where the protestors in black can be seen chanting noiselessly across the street.

"One is too many! One life is too many stolen! So remember her, remember her name and who she was!”

He steps forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the silently-chanting mass outside. “Her name was Makayla. _Her name was Makayla_ , and she got to see the Sun. You can hate us, you can beat us, you can _kill us_ and throw our dust in the street _but she saw the Sun_!"

Felix shuts his mouth with a snap, the hand pointing at the window visibly trembling. All around you, humans and monsters are half out of their seats or shifting in place, sobbing or baring their teeth in defense of this baby girl they just learned about.

Felix shuts his eyes, clenching his fist and taking a shudding breath. When he opens them to look up at the skylights where the sun would shine through if it weren't cloudy…

Something that was maybe once related, distantly, to a note, or a tone, echoes out just on the edge of your hearing; a deep thrum from Felix that pulls you to the edge of your seat, expectant for...for _something_.

It had been overcast all day; the weather had reported a 100% chance of rain around this time. Yet high overhead, the heavy clouds part, and a beam of sunlight pierces white and bright down to highlight Felix as he stands there, staring up as if in prayer.  He opens his hand slowly, the light glimmering on his palm, and finally looks down again at the crowd.

"The mother was Utnomae, and the baby was Makayla. They were Selkies of the tribe of Frostjain...and they _lived_. May we remember them." He lets his hand fall, closing his eyes again briefly.

Behind you, Doggo steps up to the two photographers and taps their shoulders, then gestures at their cameras and toward the floor. They both hurriedly pull the neck-strap off and set them near their feet, clumsy as they gawp at Felix.

Felix opens his eyes, takes a step back, and bows his head slightly as one of the plant Monsters steps up to his left, holding the ornate wooden box, the lid open. He reaches in, gently as a mother putting her baby to bed, and scoops up a handful of the silvery dust inside. Then, gracefully, he kneels before the table, holding his hand out over the wide, shallow basin.

"As Castellan to the House of Dreemur, first-born son and heir of Andromeda, daughter of Euridice, daughter of Dione...I, Felix Constellatio, return to the waters the dust of Utnomae of Frostjain, and her daughter, Makayla."

As he speaks, he lets the dust trickle through his fingers into the water. It must be amazingly heavy, you think dimly, because none of it floats away on the air currents in the room; it just falls in a sparkling cascade to the clay basin, making the water shine dimly.

After that first handful falls, the plant-Monster steps forward and gently pours the rest of the dust over Felix's palm and into the bowl, then returns to their place a few steps off his left.

There's a shift in the room around you, a feeling of...of power, originating from Felix as he takes a deep breath, his eyes shining not purple, but _gold_.

"From starlight you came, and to sunlight I return you, in peace and protection til the end of all things. May the light of your Soul strike a chord in us all, that a new note be heard in the song. From dust you came and to dust you return!”

He dashes his hand down to cast the last bit of dust into the bowl, then throws up both arms with a wordless shout.

A pillar of light, bright enough to blind yet quick as lightning, blazes up from the water and pierces through the skylight, carrying with it a flash of voiceless _song_ ...and fades. Felix stays frozen in place a moment, then drops his hands, wavering slightly as he tries to rise from his knees. Two of the plant Monsters step forward to grab him and lever him down off the platform, as one of the Monsters in the family rises from their seat at the front, taking a step forward toward the bowl.

You don't hear them; half your attention is on worry for Felix, and the other half of you is shaking slightly with the power of what you just saw. You waver, trying to decide whether or not it would be rude to go up to him...then suddenly, all the seated Monsters are rising, murmuring and pointing excitedly at the bowl of water, watching it as if in anticipation.

If you weren’t standing at the back, you wouldn't be able to see it; there’s a screen set up beside the platform, blocking off a small area from the general attendant's view. But from your angle, you can see it as Felix stumbles, then falls flat despite the two Monsters trying to catch him.

Half tripping over your hem, you race up to the platform, not sure _what_ you're going up there to do but too busy being concerned to think far ahead.

And at the front, on the table...the bowl  _shines._

_-_

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends "Regalia", the longest chapter I've ever written.
> 
> Even this chapter, which is just one part of what was originally one long chapter, is astronomically long, I know...but I just didn't think it should be broken up, you know?
> 
> Anyways; comments are like chisps: I eat the whole bag in one sitting.


	24. Better Homes and Gardens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the [tumbls](http://beewritesstuff.tumblr.com).

_ “See, ya gotta watch for their breathing. If Monsters go for longer than like...half a minute without breathing, they’re done for. Cooked.”  _

_ The Deer-Monster working the front desk, Lea, has a crowd of human employees held captive by gruesome fascination with her story, and you can’t help but get sucked into it….for educational purposes, of course. One of the older cooks in the kitchen scoffs, turning to leave. _

_ “I’m serious! Monsters are only dirt n’ air; if we’re hurt enough, or like...sucked dry of magic, we’ll just fall apart! And there’s nothing anyone can do about it, ‘less they’ve got some magic tucked away somewhere that doctors can shove back in ‘em. Even then it’s shitty odds…" _

The conversation you’d eavesdropped on almost six months ago roars up in your thoughts, making your throat close. You freeze, unable to do anything but stare as Felix lies motionless on the floor. Holding your breath, your eyes wild and fixed on his back, you count silently, ‘one, two…’

...but before you get to ‘three’, he gives an all-over shudder and sucks in an audible breath.. 

The loud clattering of a serving tray being dropped nearby breaks whatever trance was holding you, and you lurch forward with a gasp, grabbing up your skirts and running toward the front of the room. You step on your hem and stumble as you try to worm through a cluster of Monsters, catching yourself upright just in time to avoid plowing into the floor. They’re all gesturing excitedly at the bowl, exclaiming over it and not paying a lick of attention to you, until you physically take hold of one’s arm (tentacle) and move them aside with a hurried, “Excuse me!”

Not bothering to see if they’re offended or not, you step around a few stragglers near the front, then duck around the curtain partition. Biting your lip with nerves, you hesitate there and watch as Felix growls something exhausted and irritable at the Monster helping him, twitching away from the others hand and slowly bringing himself up onto his knees. You waver; he might not want you to see him like this...but some noise in the room behind you brings his head up, and his eyes widen slightly, noticing you. 

Swaying slightly in place, you take an accidental step toward him to keep your balance, and the relief on his face is palpable. He blinks right before the foot he’d been trying to get flat under himself wavers, his knee too unsteady to hold it in place, and he lurches sideways. Doing a fast hop-skip over the sound system wires littering the floor, you  catch him under his arm and lever him back down to sit flat. As you go to stand, he catches your skirt in a weak fist, tugging it, and you give him your most convincing, not-at-all-worried-for-his-health smile as you sink down to your knees. When you’re settled, he tries to lean on your shoulder, and ends up collapsing half into your lap with a noise that sounds apologetic. 

“Here, you’re okay, just stay down. It’s alright, hush…” You croon nonsense in his ear even as your heart pounds; you’ve never once seen him like this. Felix never lets on that he’s stressed, or tired, or anything but calm and composed. Seeing him like this just...doesn’t feel right.

He’s shivering violently, despite it being warm in the crowded room and him wearing three or for heavy layers besides, and you turn to the dryad Monster hovering beside you and ask, “Could you get him some water please?”

The Monster nods and trots past you into the main area, leaving you to fret and hold up your surprisingly-heavy boyfriend when he goes completely limp against you. You sit there and scritch your fingers against his wrist gently, and it’s a few seconds before you realize he’s whispering something, his voice barely audible.

“...’nt mean to scare you…”

“Hmm?” You lean back to look at his face, but his eyes are closed. He takes a breath and tries again, so quiet you have to watch his mouth to understand him.

“Sorry...I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shake your head, stroking your hand down his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He frowns with his eyes barely slitted open, working his jaw, and after a moment you take pity on him.

“Never mind, it’s alright. Just nod; will you be okay eventually after this?”

That gets you a very sleepy nod, more a brush of Felix’s head against you than anything, and you look away to hide a half-hysterical smile. You stay there, rubbing his shoulders and fretting until the other Monster comes back with a styrofoam cup of water. As you coax Felix into sitting up and drinking it, the Monster bounces on the balls of their feet, looking excited. When you level a questioning look at them, they burst out, “The family wanted me to thank you for offering your house later…but they said they won’t need it!” 

“What?” You think back, worrying that you might have offended them in some way...but no, you can’t think of anything you did wrong…

“They won’t need it?” Felix’s voice is scarcely more than a whisper, but he sits up a little straighter, not leaning so hard on you.

“No! They left already for home, and they’ll let you know as soon as something changes, they said!” The other Monster wavers, then rushes forward and grabs Felix’s hand, shaking it excitedly. “Thank you so much, none of us ever imagined that…” 

The Monster trails off, realizing that they’ve half pulled Felix off the ground with the force of their handshake as he grins tiredly. Slowly, a deep-green blush rises under the woody texture of their skin, and they drop him back to the floor, stepping back and clearing their throat. 

“We just...we all appreciate it. It’s a little spot of hope, you know?”

Felix’s grin turns into a real smile, and he nods. “It’s the least I could do. It was time.”

The Monster gives a quick half-bow and trots away, leaving you to shrug to yourself over the two’s antics. But your man looks a little better now, as he slowly twists from side to side, working kinks out of his spine. 

“Why do you even have a spine, anyway?” The words pop out before you can stop them, and you almost clap a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. It’d been a long day for you too, and your mental filter is...not what it could be. 

Felix stares at you for a too-long moment, then sniffs, putting his nose up. 

“Why, to give me the fortitude and depth to deal with nosey women like you, of course.”

You can’t help it; you giggle helplessly, putting your head in your hands. 

“Fortitude and depth, huh?” It comes out muffled between your fingers, but you can still see Felix grin at the words. “Sounds like we’re describing a swimming pool.”

“Oh definitely not. I’m not nearly deep enough for that.” Felix says it airly as he gets to his knees. “Maybe a bird bath. Or a puddle. Something see-through.” 

“Saran wrap?” you ask as you steady him.

“Maybe!” He lets himself half fall onto you, pretending to stumble so that his arm falls and his paw rests right on your ass. “What can I say, I just stick to hot things…”  He murmurs it into your ear, so seriously that you burst out laughing (to hide the tingle of warmth that goes through you at his words) and give him a tiny shove back. “Get off me you pervert!” 

Someone nearby clears their throat, and you both turn with guilty expressions only to find one of the catering staff standing there, doing their best to look like they hadn’t seen a thing. “Sorry for interruptin’, but we um...we need to start setting up for the next event.” 

“Oh! Oh crap, sorry. We’ll go away.” You wince; you’d forgotten everything in the world but Felix and the funeral this entire day. The man shrugs, grinning. 

“Nah. It’s nice to see you have fun now and then, miss. You’re always frettin’ and worryin’ about the goings ons here.” He flicks his hat, grin widening, and strolls off into the main room. 

“I am SURROUNDED by disrespect!” You bellow it after him, laughing, then turn to find Felix with a funny little smile on his face. “What?”

“Nothin’.” You scowl, poking him. “Whaaat?” His smile only widens, and he holds out a hand. “Nothing at all! Now, help your poor, weak boyfriend out to his car?” 

“Like I’m letting you drive yourself anywhere. I’ll drive you home. Leave your car here; we have an armed guard 24/7 on the parking garage.”

Felix sighs and flaps a grouchy hand at you; of course, of course. But when you step closer to let him drape an arm around your shoulders, he still lunges in to press a kiss to your cheek.

-

“Oh, well this makes me feel good about my living arrangements.”

You say it flatly, looking around at the part of town Felix directed you to. You figure his apartment probably costs three times what yours does, and you’re only seeing the outside of the building. It’s in the ‘old historic’ part of town, closer to the Inn than your place is, and you can practically  _ feel  _ the money that went into renovating the old factory into studio apartments as nice as these probably are. Even the outside has an air of lazy-classiness, with the brick preserved and the stonework redone to look vintage and aged, and  _ his  _ parking lot doesn’t have a single scrap of ice on it.

“Yeah and I literally all I do is sleep here. Trust me, I like your place more.”

The second wind Felix had gotten earlier is wearing off fast; he’d been dozing on and off the whole drive. Traffic was bad, being only two days after Christmas, and you’d been in a jam long enough to order takeout to his place. And, look at that, as you step out of your car, the delivery boy also pulls up and hands you your order. Before you can pay though, Felix calls from inside the car, “Just charge it to me”. 

Apparently he must order from them quite a lot, because all the kid has to do is glance over to recognize him. “No problem sir!”

As you balance chinese in one hand and a sleepy Cat in the other, directing him into his building, you try to give him a look that says, ‘I can pay for myself, thanks very much’. But each time you catch his eye, you’re met with such wide-eyed innocence that you finally snort and give up. Cats and cats will do as they please, it seems. And it’s not like he can’t afford it.

After an elevator ride of Felix trying to look very hard like he isn’t going to collapse, and a long fumble at his door for keys that just won’t play nicely with sleepy paws, you finally make it into his apartment.

And...oh boy. 

“Baby, you  _ sure  _ you live here?”

“Last I checked.” Felix settles down onto his couch with a sigh; it’s probably the first time he’s ever sat in it. Or at least, it sure looks that way. In fact, the entire place looks...pristine. Straight out of a magazine; there isn’t a  _ hint  _ that a person lives here. No dishes in the sink, no clutter in the living room, no knick-knacks sitting around. Nothing.

“Oooookay.” You wander into his kitchen and pull open the cabinets, happy to find that he at least owns dishes. You make two plates of food, then scrounge around in the drawers for silverware. But when you turn back around to ask him what he has around to drink, you find him fast asleep, his heavy top draped over the back of the couch and leaving him only in a tshirt and his slacks. 

Sighing, you put his food back into the box and put the leftovers into the (mostly empty) fridge, then quietly go over to him. He stirs as you pull his shoes off, but you stroke your hand down his leg, murmuring, “It’s just me baby, go to sleep.” A search through the closet behind the living room area yields a few throw blankets, one of which you toss over him. After a moment's fumbling, your vest joins his top, and you sigh, hoping whatever material Muffet made your outfit from can be ironed.

Then, turning the (huge) tv on low and settling in an armchair with your own food, you finally, finally relax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALIVE


End file.
